Burn
by xLion'sRoarx
Summary: When BB, a dangerous criminal, escapes from jail and sets his eyes on Light, the entire investigation is thrown into chaos. The Kira case flies off the metaphorical tracks, and as Light's world comes apart at the seams, his own emotions bar him at every turn, turning calculations into reckless actions and throwing into danger everything that he has fought to protect. LxLight
1. Long Shadows

**Welcome to Burn, a story that I've been working on for nearly a year. As of right now the story is complete, but I still plan to upload it one chapter at time so I don't overwhelm readers with a massive block of 28 chapters at once :) I hope you enjoy, and be sure to drop me a review if you have anything to say about the rather short and slow beginning.**

 **Chapter 1: Long Shadows**

 _This sucks,_ I thought, watching the chain of the handcuffs dangle from my wrist, clanking irritably against the metal desk I shared with L. The sharp metal had already rubbed my wrist raw, and it had been under 24 hours since I'd had the damn cuffs slapped on like I was some sort of criminal! Although I knew that it was much better than my two alternatives: remaining locked up, or being killed (in an "accident," of course. L wouldn't want to upset my father any more than was necessary).

Soft clinks sounded next to me, and I didn't have to turn my head to know that L was piling sugar cubes into his tea. The man seemed to have completely lost interest in the data on the screen in front of him. The look on his face was almost depressed.

 _Well,_ I thought, forcing my gaze to stay on the screen of my computer, _I couldn't care less if he feels discouraged. After what he did to me, he deserves to feel a little bit of remorse._

I referred to the time of my confinement, which spanned just over four months. At first I'd been left in a cell with my wrists and ankles bound and my eyes covered. But after a week of that, L decided that I could still be killing people—so he forced me into full-body restraints, and locked me up in a completely sterile room. If his goal was to make me lose my mind from utter lack of mental stimulation, then he'd greatly succeeded. After around four months of being completely unable to move, humiliating hand-feedings via Watari, and endless hours of glaring at a wall, I thought that my brain might have turned to putty. Luckily for me, it seemed that L did _not_ intend on keeping me forever (though if it were up to him, I thought that he might have). The task force badgered him into releasing Misa and I after a final test that I was sure I'd be having nightmares about for years.

However, he still suspected us, so he'd "permanently" cuffed me to him, and put Misa under constant video and audio surveillance. This obviously wasn't what I'd wanted to happen when my months of confinement came to an end, but it was certainly better than rotting in the dingy cell I'd been tossed in—or the more extreme option, which rested with the gun that L always had tucked in the waistband of his baggy jeans. And of course, having one hand cuffed was a big improvement from having my entire body completely immobile.

At least Misa was spared the indignity—although she was still determined to go on what she called 'dates' with me, despite the fact that L was forced to go along wherever she drug me. All the endeavors led to were weird glances from people wondering why there were two men chained together walking through the streets of Tokyo with the star model Misa Amane.

"Are you all right, Light?" L's voice came from beside me. I glanced up from where I'd been staring, meeting his obsidian eyes. His expression still bordered depression, and I felt a spike of irritation at the possibility that he was just asking to gather more information to add to his mental profile of me.

"Yeah," I said shortly. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Well, I noticed that you've been staring at that word document for the past three minutes and forty-two seconds exactly."

I narrowed my eyes. Couldn't he leave me alone for just four minutes? "Oh, right," I said, feigning cheerfulness as I reached out and closed the document. "I was just reading it over a few times."

L frowned. "I regret to inform you that the document was blank."

"Oh…" I muttered again. "Sorry." _Damn, L. Can't you mind your own business, just this once?_

"There is no need for apologies," the detective said, reaching into my work space to grab a sweet from one of the bowls that he'd sloppily arranged near my keyboard. He popped the sweet into his mouth thoughtfully, twirling it about as his eyes went back to scanning the computer screen. "I can see why you'd be distracted, being chained to someone you hardly know."

I irritably forced my eyes to go back to my monitor. Nothing was coming up on the Kira case, much to the irritation of everyone on the task force. It seemed that we had hit a dead end. "It's better than being completely immobile," I grumbled. "Although after a few months, it's weird to be walking around again."

"I would imagine as much." L glanced up. "Your muscles must have suffered greatly after such an extended period of immobility. You must be already wearing thin."

Unfortunately, he was correct. I could feel the strange twinges in muscles that had never bothered me before. My legs and lower back ached with a vengeance, and even my fingers throbbed from typing. _I'm pathetic,_ I thought bitterly. "I'll manage."

"We'll have to be careful," he announced. "After so long in a sterile environment with no outside contact, it isn't entirely inconvincible for you to fall ill. Your immune system won't exactly be enabled to handle sudden exposure to the outside world, especially with the amount of sleep you'll be getting when you work with me…" he trailed off, running a hand along his jawline thoughtfully. "You should inform me the instant you begin to feel ill. An illness could be disastrous."

I huffed, "I'm completely fine, Ryuzaki. All it is is a little stiffness."

L gave me a long look, then nodded as he went back to staring blankly at the computer screen. "In that case, get back to work. Perhaps you could make use of yourself and compose something in that blank document you've been staring at."

I gritted my teeth. The bastard always knew how to get under my skin. I bitterly closed the blank document and started my long and tedious research, well aware that despite L's chastisement, he wasn't doing even a bit of work himself.

That was the way we stayed for a long while. It wasn't long before my insistence that I was okay came back to haunt me. I hadn't realized how badly my body was taking its new freedom—I found it harder and harder to concentrate due to the various aches and pains assaulting me. I nearly groaned as I thought back to the way L had kept me confined. Between my aching body and L's utter lack of emotion, it didn't take long for boredom to set in.

It didn't help that there were no new developments in the case. The task force's mood was at a low, even with Matsuda lightening the mood with his stupid jokes. In fact, it seemed like we would _never_ catch a break in the case at this point.

I scrolled mindlessly down a webpage as I thought. As of late L was growing increasingly discouraged. I thought that it wouldn't be long before he did something drastic. A smile flickered across my lips as I imagined L, the most powerful man in the world, admitting defeat. The sense of elation that filled my chest at the thought of his defeat both scared and enthralled me—when had I become so set on his defeat? We were on the same side! I shook off the strange emotion uneasily and allowed my mind to slip back into thought.

What seemed like an eternity later, L finally told the task force to go home. As he rose, Soichiro shot me an apologetic look, like he wanted to take back home so I could rest, but knew arguing with L was pointless. The rest of the task force murmured their goodbyes and filed out to their cars. Even Matsuda seemed subdued after such a long day.

"How late do you work?" I dared to ask, the aching in my bones urging me to lie down and relax.

L paused. "Hmm, normally until around three or four in the mornings, on nights that I sleep."

"And is tonight going to be one of those nights?"

L seemed to seriously consider the question, leaning back and bringing his thumb up to his mouth to gnaw at. "No, I don't think it is. But seeing as your energy is so depleted, I could be convinced to bring my laptop to bed with me so you can rest."

"What a gentleman," I scoffed.

L stood abruptly, snapping the lid of the laptop shut and tucking it under one arm. "Very well. You are becoming irritable, Light, and I wish for you to retire to bed."

I shrugged. "Fine by me." I got to my feet… and instantly a wave of nausea assaulted my senses. I clutched my head, groaning as the world tilted on its axis.

"Light?"

L's concerned voice righted my world, and I looked up at him through my long bangs. "I'm fine. Just a little lightheaded, that's all." I took a step forward, and was stunned to feel just how violently my muscles protested the movement. This was going to take a long time to adjust to. L followed closely, just behind me as we moved to the elevator. We headed inside, and L clicked the correct button for the floor his room was on. As we exited the elevator and walked the halls, L said at last,

"I had the bed replaced, by the way. You wouldn't have fit as it was."

I froze. "Bed? As in, one?"

"That was the most convenient, yes."

I nearly choked, staggering to a halt. Then I really _was_ choking, stunned beyond words. "L," I gasped when I finally regained my breath. "There's no way in hell that I—"

"That you'll what?" he asked airily. "Sleep in the same bed as the person you want to kill? That's what you want, isn't it, Kira? To kill me?"

I snarled. "I am _not_ Kira! And I don't want to kill you!" I paused. "And wait a minute, I told you not to release me until you were completely sure that I wasn't Kira! If you still have doubts, then why am I here?"

He looked away. "I have no doubts about you. It was just a joke."

"Bullshit!" I snapped. "You still suspect—"

"Are you suggesting that I lock you up again?"

I hesitated, muttering, "You shouldn't have released me in the first place if you weren't sure."

That prompted a deep sigh from the detective. "If you are going to be this evasive throughout all of our time together, then our relationship will swiftly become unbearable. Now, answer the question. Do you want me to lock you back up?"

"…No."

"Good. Now, let's go. You look as if you're about to collapse. Tell me, are you feeling ill? Remember what I said about telling me if you feel sick." He began walking again, dragging me behind him, ignoring my spluttered protests.

"I'm fine! And look, Ryuzaki, I don't think this is such a good idea—!"

"We're here." L reached out and opened the door. As he led me inside, I couldn't help but marvel at the state of the place. His room was huge, to say the least. The entire right wall was covered in shelves, each holding innumerous amounts of books. The wall across from the door held an array of computer monitors and keyboards, as if someone had spread glue over the wall and shaken a tech store over it. Loose books and papers were stacked beside and on the desk, the clutter only making way for the computer chair. The rest of the room was rather plain—a door leading to what was presumably a bathroom, a closet and wardrobe, and one large table that held more sweets than I'd ever seen in one place. It was hard for me to say if I found the room enthralling or disgusting.

"We'll take turns in the shower," L said shortly. "The chain will feed through the bottom of the door while providing ample space to move, so the other shall wait outside. That is, unless you are too weak to be on your own, in which case—"

"I am completely capable of showering!" I yelped.

He shrugged, and I was rendered speechless once again as L placed his laptop on the table and headed to the bathroom, without a word, looping the chain under the door and shutting it. The water clicked on. While L bathed, I was stuck observing the room. I gulped, finally examining the king-sized bed L had been referring to. The thing was huge! And it was still made—there was no way L had ever slept in this thing before, the sheets would probably be in tatters, or thrown off the bed entirely. I chuckled at the thought of L thrashing about, struggling to get comfortable before tearing the sheets apart in a vengeance. Briefly I recognized the thought that I was going to have to share a bed with the sugar-addicted insomniac, and that I would probably become fodder for his incessant restlessness. But no—I would worry about that some other time. Right now I was too tired to consider the fact that I would have to put up with that in the near future.

The water clicked off. About five minutes later L emerged, dressed in a fresh shirt and jeans and with sopping wet hair. Ignoring the fact that water was now _everywhere_ both inside and out of the bathroom, I headed in to take my turn. It didn't take long to wash up and change into pajamas—a white shirt and black shorts. Taking care that my hair was as dry as it could be without a blow-dryer (L didn't have one, and there was no way I would convince him to go to my room to fetch it), I emerged to find L crouched in that odd way of his, eyes staring blankly ahead.

"L?" I asked when my appearance prompted no response.

He glanced up. "Ah, Light. I was wondering when you would come out. Now, you shall rest. I myself will continue with the Kira investigation." He pulled me with him to grab his laptop and what appeared to be a large piece of cheesecake that Watari must have delivered when I was showering. He slathered the cake in thick strawberry syrup before sticking a fork into the top of the thing and dragging us both to the bed. L rested the cake on the bedside table. "Go on, then," he said airily.

I glared. Unfortunately my scathing gaze didn't seem to have an effect on the great detective, and I eventually gave in, pulling myself up onto the bed and moving as far away from L as the chain would allow without falling off. "Can't you just cuff me to the bed in my room? Or have another one moved in here?"

L crouched beside me, the laptop open before him and the cheesecake now balanced on his knees. He looked up at my words, black hair falling into his face. "Binding you to a different bed would be inconvenient, for I would be forced to reattach you to me whenever you needed to leave the room or use the restroom."

"Since when do you care about being inconvenienced? If you cared so much about _that_ then I wouldn't be cuffed to you in the first place!"

He cocked his head. "Perhaps I would just prefer to keep you cuffed to something, or rather, some _one_ who can actively prevent your escape should you attempt to do so."

I rolled my eyes. Of course… L was dead-set on proving that I was Kira. He probably figured that I could find a way to escape being chained to the bedpost, and escape in one of the rare instances that he was asleep. "You'd have to be an idiot to think I'd attempt an escape," I spat viciously. "Even if I _was_ Kira, and if I somehow managed to dislodge the chain from the bed, the cameras would have captured every move! There would be no point in running."

"An obvious deduction," L said shortly, bringing his thumb to his lips. "However, we shall simply call this an extra layer of security."

I seethed, barely feeling my exhaustion from the previous day's work. "You're unbelievable! To think that you—"

"If you do not silence yourself, I will ask Watari to retrieve a dose of sedative."

 _He's such a child!_ I nearly lashed out in my haze of fury.

L sighed, no doubt recognizing the anger radiating from me. He reached out, and to my shock, a moment later his hand settled on my shoulder, pushing me down. "Rest, Light."

My head hit the pillows. Instantly I wanted to get up and lash out at L for touching me, but sheer exhaustion won out over rage. Still, I managed a sleepy glare in his direction. "I hate you."

"That's a shame, Light, because _I_ happen to like _you_."

I frowned faintly at the statement, wanting to pick apart the meaning and the odd tone of his voice. But before I could, my world faded away.

 **I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter! Like I said, it took me almost a full year to write this story, so I would appreciate reviews, advice, or just a comment on how you think it's going so far.**


	2. Fire and Ice

**Welcome to chapter two! I had some formatting issues when I was uploading this, so I'm sorry if there are a few errors. I'm sorry about how short the last chapter was, but this one is longer, and about average for the chapters I'll be posting in the future. (Oh, and by the way, I forgot to mention that this story won't earn its M rating until a little later on.) Make sure to drop me a review, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Two: Fire and Ice**

The case was still at a standstill the next morning, with only a few new deaths and no clues as to who the new Kira may be. We knew that the victims of the new Kira were mainly businessmen, and that they were being killed once a week, but we knew nothing else. All the task force could do at the moment was investigate businesses for unusual patterns of behavior. We were hoping to find just one business that benefited from all the deaths, but so far nothing was working correctly for us. We worked for hours. And as usual, we took little to no breaks.

Unfortunately for me, this meant no rest for my weakened body—and around noon I was already feeling the effects of moving about. An irritating throbbing had started in my head, a strange heat behind my eyes accompanying it. When I could take it no longer, I pushed my chair back from the desk and brought my hands up to my face.

"Ryuzaki, I need a break," I declared firmly.

He glanced up at me, the other members of the task force pausing to listen. "Of course. You are still weak." He got to his feet. "I think that Light and myself will be taking a small trip to the nearest coffee shop. Please, continue working."

I nearly groaned at the declaration. I'd hoped to go back to bed and sleep for a while, not be drug outside! L must have sensed my train of thought, for he said, "Don't complain. The sunlight will do you good." I sighed, but pushed myself to my feet. Just like yesterday, a small pulse of pain shot through my head, but I pushed it aside in favor of following L on unsteady legs. The detective shot me an odd look. The next thing I knew his arm was looped around my chest in an effort to support me.

"Hey—" I started to protest, but a sharp glance from L stopped the words rising in my throat. The other members of the task force stared as L guided me to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button to take us to the exit. "You don't have to do that," I murmured grumpily, shrugging in an attempt to dislodge his arm.

He shrugged. "I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself. Consider it a precaution." We'd reached the exit. He walked beside me to the car that he'd no doubt had Watari pull up, and nearly pushed me inside. He climbed in just after me. "Watari, take us to the nearest coffee shop, if you will."

"At once." The car's engine purred to life, and we were off.

"You could've just let me sleep for a while," I said.

"Nonsense. That would have taken longer, and been much more boring. I would much rather take you somewhere to relax for a while."

A frown found its way to my lips. What was the meaning of this? Was this just another ploy to try to get me to say something defining me as Kira? It seemed like something he would do. And he'd already told me, back when we first met, that he was trying to get me to say something that only Kira would know. That was reason enough to suspect him of trying to deceive me. I snuck a look at him. L was in that odd crouch of his, eyes fixed on the back of Watari's seat. He looked so innocent… I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. He wasn't innocent; he was trying to lock me away for being Kira! But it was hard to believe that, watching him now. I looked away and tried to focus on the road instead of L, and the mounting pressure in my head. Damn… was I getting sick on top of everything else? I wasn't an idiot—I knew just as well as L did that getting sick could be dangerous after so long in a completely sterile room. But there was still a chance that I wasn't sick, right? I could wait a little bit longer before I said anything.

"We're here." L opened his door and got out, urging me to follow. I obeyed. I'd spaced out for longer than I'd thought; we'd already arrived. And of course, it was the same café I'd taken _him_ to when we'd first met. Talk about mind games. "Watari will stay in the car," L said as he used the chain to tug me to him. "I will conceal the chain. It will seem… odd, if you will, if two males enter the establishment handcuffed together."

"Yeah, no doubt."

L pulled open the door and led me inside to our table that so well concealed our conversation. He ordered tea for both of us. For a long while we just sat there in silence. I stared into my cup of tea moodily. The two of us were completely useless when it came to making small talk—we had plenty of huge, nasty things to talk about, but nothing small and pleasant. If I wanted to talk about murder and deceit, then I knew that his ears were open to me. But if I wanted to have a light conversation, something to ease the ache in my head…

L mutely plunked sugar cube after sugar cube into his tea. Then, finally, he broke the awkward silence. "You are unwell, yes? Not only that, but I am certain that I told you to inform me the instant you felt unwell, and you did not."

I shuddered. "What did you expect? You locked me up without the ability to move for months! It makes sense that I'd be a little weak at first. And there's no reason to tell you how I feel until it becomes bad enough to require medical aid!"

He cocked his head. "That is unwise. Your condition could become dangerous."

Another frown. It was true, I wasn't feeling my best, but it was nothing to worry about. "Maybe, but I haven't been sick in forever. My immune system is iron-clad."

He blatantly ignored me. "I fear that you may begin to feel worse. I'd hate for you to be put out of work, especially after your extended imprisonment. That is why I chose to give you this break."

I laughed. "You're crazy if you think one trip to a café is going to cure whatever this is. And it is _not_ an illness—it's just me readjusting to being able to move!"

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his tea. "Whatever you say. Are you aware that you are flushed?"

His words only served to deepen the warmth spreading across my cheeks, and this time it had nothing to do with illness. Instead of responding, I lifted my cup and drank from it.

"I am unaware as to how you manage to drink that," L said.

That drew a chuckle from me. "Not everyone is a sugar freak, Ryuzaki. Some people like tea unsweetened."

"Those people are insane." We shared a moment of amusement at that. Then L said, "Light, can I request something of you?"

"Shoot."

"Very well. Would you be as kind as to tell me where you grew up?"

 _What an odd question._ "Um, sure. But you already know, don't you?"

"I wish to hear it from you. So please, tell me."

"Well, I grew up here." I waved an arm about, gesturing to the space around us. "This city, this neighborhood. We never really moved around—dad's work was always here."

"Fascinating." He leaned forward. "And your family is happy having always lived here?"

"Well, of course. Moving isn't really a good thing most of the time, you know. They're happy here."

"And you aren't?"

That was a tough question. Was I happy? Sure… anywhere my family was, I would be. And I would be glad about it. Having some friends here was a bonus— Wait _, did I just call him my friend? I hate his guts for doing this to me! Why the hell would I—_

"If you aren't sure, you don't have to answer."

"No, no!" I insisted. "I'm happy anywhere my family is! And anywhere my friends are."

"Yes," L agreed. "I am happy to have a friend here as well."

The warmth was back in my cheeks—I hoped he hadn't noticed. "Right."

There was a short, awkward silence then. Until L said, "And tell me, did you have many friends as a child?"

"Well, no. You've probably figured out that child geniuses aren't exactly considered friend material. Although I did catch quite a few stalkers after me for my looks."

"How irritating." His thumb was at his teeth, his tea forgotten.

"Tell me," I said, "Have you ever experienced something like that?" I didn't think so—L wasn't exactly the social type. But something about the way his forehead had crinkled when I'd mentioned the girls following me about, it seemed familiar. He looked almost exasperated.

"One person," he said. "I will not care to mention his name, but we shall say that we could have been great friends had he not chosen to go on a murdering spree in Los Angeles."

I blinked. Well… okay. "Seriously?"

"Yes." He looked away.

There was a long pause. Then I said, "What about you? Am I allowed to know anything about your childhood?"

L bit at his thumb thoughtfully. "You already know that I lived in England for five years. I have no living parents, and much of my childhood I do not remember. I assure you, it is not very interesting. And besides…" he removed his thumb long enough to take a drink of his sugary tea. "…Why should I tell these things to Kira?"

I sneered, "I am not Kira! I just wanted to know more about your childhood!"

L lowered his gaze, seemingly ashamed, but I knew better. He didn't care how he made me feel, how furious his accusations made me.

I attempted damage control. "How old are you?" There. A nice, safe question. There was no way that he would deduce that I was Kira from _that._

"I am 24."

"Really? I thought—"

"Yes, most people think I am younger than I really am."

"And why did you become a detective? Where did you receive your training?" I knew that this was a lot to ask, but I was curious. I wanted to know more about the mystery that was L.

L cleared his throat suddenly. "I do not wish to divulge such information."

"Surely it won't be revealing too much—"

"I told you no, Light."

We fell into another awkward silence. I took another sip of tea, bitter over the fact that my attempt at light conversation had degraded into argument.

The detective fiddled with the spoon protruding from his half-empty drink. "We don't seem to have many pleasant things to speak of, do we?"

I shook my head curtly. "It's hard to talk to someone who won't talk about anything other than the Kira case."

"Ah, yes, well…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry about that."

I raised a brow. L was apologizing? Had hell just frozen over?

He went on, "That special school I was raised in… the orphanage… it taught me to focus only on the task at hand. As a result, I often find myself incapable of talking about anything other than my current case. Normally it isn't a problem because of Watari, but… well, when I'm around normal people, it becomes problematic." He lowered his gaze, and I thought that he might have been smiling sadly. "If I am to be honest with myself, then I think that I'd like to be able to speak of little things like you do, rather than the big picture."

"Oh, well…" I attempted to respond. "I can… teach you? If you like. We have some time left here, and I could… you know… make small talk."

He looked up at me, surprised. "You'd do that?"

"It's not that big a deal," I muttered, embarrassed. "It's just talking."

The detective put down his cup, and I felt that I had his full attention for the first time in weeks. "Very well, then. Go on."

I barely concealed a smile at his eager expression. Then, slowly, I began to speak. I spoke of anything from politics to childhood memories, and for what felt like hours we just sat there in that little café, secluded and alone, and spoke of the world. I answered all of my own questions and went in depth on all of my topics, and any question that L wouldn't answer was quickly dropped for another. It wasn't until the sun was low in the sky, the yellowish-pink color of sunset staining the tabletop, until L finally decided that it was time for us to leave.

"We should be leaving now, Light," he announced. "We have stayed for far too long, and I believe that the task force will be wondering if we have been murdered by Kira."

I stared at him blankly, about to start up on all the logical fallacies hiding within that one statement, when I saw a smile play across his lips. "You… you're joking?"

He shot me a real smile in response, and I laughed.

"Well, Ryuzaki, it looks like you did manage to learn something today."

L removed his wallet from his pocket and left the correct amount of money on the table. "Was this pleasant for you?" he asked softly, counting out coins.

"Yeah," I said, realizing that although the ache in my head had never really gone away, my talk with L had more than distracted me from it. Even now, the pain was somewhat alleviated. "This helped a little. Thank you."

"You will tell me if it becomes any worse," he said. "No matter how little the change." He turned to walk away, then paused, turning his head to look at me. "And you're welcome." He smiled, something that I'd gotten to see a lot of today. Then he really did begin to walk away, not waiting for me to follow him, and headed for the car.

†††

Beyond Birthday lounged back in his chair, eyes locked on the ceiling of the apartment he was renting. Things weren't going too well for Beyond at the moment. He'd escaped prison just a few weeks ago, and in that time he'd been relentlessly tracking down L, the great detective who always, _always_ seemed to be one step ahead of him. But not this time, he vowed. This time would be different. He sat, a grin on his face.

"L," he said aloud. "This was the biggest mistake of your life, taking on the Kira case. It led me right to you." He sat up, looking across the room to where his laptop sat, still open. The screen had long since gone dark. But if he cared to illuminate it, he would see the profiles of everyone L had been working with on the Kira case. Everyone he would kill, one by one. Shuichi Aizawa, Kanzo Mogi, Touta Matsuda, Soichiro Yagami, and the Kira suspect— Light Yagami. What a pitiful bunch, just waiting to be picked off. Oh yes, he thought, he would use this opportunity to destroy L, just as he had intended since his days as a student in Wammy's house. All he had to do was get L somewhere on his own, without cameras or bodyguards… And the first step to that would be to eliminate the task force. Beyond glared at the darkened screen of the computer. Light Yagami… that was the only member of the task force that posed a problem. According to security footage he'd managed to acquire, as well as conversations between task force members he'd listened in on, L had chained the Kira suspect to him. That would make things difficult, especially if Light Yagami was actually Kira. Although, he reasoned, if the Yagami boy _was_ Kira, then Beyond would be very interested in figuring out how he killed. Perhaps he would wait to kill Light until he interrogated him. He laughed, throwing his head back. If he was lucky, L would develop a liking for Light, and Beyond could crush L's spirit by torturing the Kira suspect before his very eyes. Beyond brushed two fingers across the touch-pad on the computer to awaken it. His teeth glinted as he watched the Yagami boy hungrily. Yes… he was _very_ interested in the Kira-suspect. Soon, he swore, he would strike. All he needed was a little advantage.

Unbeknownst to Beyond, a dark figure watched from the shadows. His odd, almost clown-like face peered out at the L look-alike. _So you want to kill the task force and murder L? Well then, I could make your job easier._ The creature—Ryuk—held up a black notebook with white lettering sprawled across the front in a haphazard way. Ooh, Light would be furious! He cackled. That is, if he ever regained his memories. Ryuk wasn't so sure that even the genius could pull himself out of this one. A demented smile etched into his inhuman features, Ryuk leaned forward, holding the Death Note out… and dropped it. He watched as the thing fell, practically in slow motion, and hit the ground in front of Beyond with a dull thud. The murderer jumped. His eyes flew to lock onto the notebook. Frowning, he got up and walked to it.

"Go on then!" Ryuk snapped impatiently. "Pick it up!"

Beyond couldn't hear him yet, however. He knelt beside the notebook. "Death Note?" he read. "What the hell?" He reached out and picked it up.

"Well, it's about time!"

Beyond nearly screamed despite his calm nature, leaping clean out of his skin in attempt to get away from the voice.

"Calm down, kid." Ryuk floated into view, waiting for the initial shock to fade.

Beyond saw him, and immediately an unbelievable terror grasped him. Who the hell was this guy? Why didn't he look human? And how did he get in? Without thinking, Beyond drew his handgun and fired it several times into the creature's chest.

Ryuk sighed, looking down at the bullet holes in his chest. _This is going to take a while._

†††

 _I stood. I didn't know where I was standing, exactly, but wherever it was, it was up high in the air. I walked forward and looked down. Ah… so I was standing on a building, was I? And a rather large one, at that. Where the hell was I? I held up my hands in front of my face._

" _Kira!"_

 _I turned, despite knowing that it wasn't my name. "L?" I gasped, taking in his state. "L!"_

 _The great detective was on his knees behind me, blood dripping from his long, black hair. His face was littered with bruises and cuts, and one eye was puffed up as if he'd been struck. Even his clothing was in tatters, slashed to pieces._

" _Kira, why did you do this?"_

" _What?" I gasped, falling to my knees beside him. "I didn't do anything!"_

" _I saw you!" The repose was petulant, as if it were coming from a child. "I saw you do it!"_

" _L, no, that wasn't me! Whoever did this to you, it wasn't me!" He didn't seem to hear or understand me. Instead, he coughed, and blood flew from his lips to stain my collar. "Please…" I whispered. Before I had time to talk myself out of it, I reached out and pulled my into a fierce hug. Ignoring the stains that his blood was leaving on my shirt, I pulled L's head down to rest in the crook of my neck. "It's okay," I whispered against his hair. "I'm here, I'm not going to let Kira hurt you anymore."_

 _He was probably going to protest, but then, out of nowhere, the task force was there. What…?_

" _Kira, get away from Ryuzaki!" Soichiro yelled, his gun trained on me._

" _What? Dad, no, I'm not Kira!" He didn't listen, much like L._

" _I will shoot you if you don't get away!"_

" _But—" I clutched L closer._

 _Soichiro snarled. "Open fire! Kill Kira!"_

 _And the rest of the task force members obeyed with blank stares, their guns rising and going off again, and again, and again… I barely felt the bullets pierce my flesh. All that I could hear was the stunned gasp as a bullet found L. Blood spurted from his body as the metallic object breached his flesh._

" _L!" I cried, and to my horror, blood was rising in my throat. L looked right at me, his eyes a mess of pain and hatred._

" _I hate…" he tried to say, choking. "I hate y—!" Then he fell back, his body cradled in my arms. His eyes were still open, but his chest had stilled._

 _A strange fury overtook me. How dare the task force murder him! How dare they shoot at me, an innocent person! I tried to move to tell them off, but my limbs wouldn't obey me… why did I feel so cold? I didn't have time to think about it before I was collapsing onto L's body, a warm substance dripping down my neck and chest._

 _In the hazing world, the last thing I made out clearly was L's bloodied face before I sunk into the all-encompassing darkness._

†††

"—ght! Light!"

I gasped, jolting as my stubborn eyes finally obeyed my command to open. What I saw didn't make sense. L was leaning over me, his face a mere few inches from my own, his hands on my chest. He gave me a light shake. "Light," he repeated. "Are you coherent?"

I nodded weakly. "Ryuzaki… what are you doing?"

"You appeared to be having a nightmare, and refused to respond. If you didn't awaken within the next 43 seconds exactly I was going to call a doctor." He raised one hand and brushed it over my cheek. "You're warm, Light. Do you have a fever?"

His eyes were the only thing I could see as I replied, "No, I feel fine." _I feel awful._ "And… thanks."

He finally sat back, removing his hands from my chest. "Don't think anything of it." He crouched, eyes still locked firmly on me. It was only then that I noticed his laptop pushed away haphazardly on the bed, a bowl of hard candy spilled over the covers. "Light… please try to refrain from doing that again. I was concerned."

 _He was concerned? About me?_ The thought was appalling. "Sorry. If I could control my dreams, I would never do it again."

"Would you care to explain?" he offered. "I will listen."

I bit at the inside of my mouth thoughtfully. Should I explain? Would that make me seem even more guilty? "I was on a roof," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "A big one on a skyscraper, I think. Someone called 'Kira' and I turned to find you bleeding and bruised on the ground. You called me a murderer and told me I'd done this to you, even though I _hadn't._ No matter what I said, you tried to get away—until the task force burst in and told me to get away from you. I refused, and they _shot_ at us… They hit us both, and I collapsed, but you died, and—" I broke off then, realizing that my breath had grown shorter and shorter as I'd spoken.

"Light, if you continue like this you will hyperventilate. Please, try to calm down. As you can see, we are both still here, and your identity as Kira has not been exposed."

I was too rattled to comment on his not-so-subtle accusation. So instead I reached out and pulled him in for a hug that was much too similar to the dream for my liking. He went completely tense beneath my arms—then relaxed, hesitantly raising his arms to clasp around my back in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. "It is early," he said against my shoulder. "You should rest, if you can."

I nodded, releasing him. "Yeah, you're right." Exhaustion was setting back in, and I was beginning to realize the extent of what I'd just told Ryuzaki—and the fact that I'd just _hugged_ him. Knowing him, there was some hidden meaning behind my dream. And also knowing him, it would just end up meaning that I was Kira. I lay back against my pillows with a huff, knowing that if I went back to sleep now, I would only be cast back into a nightmare. But there was no fighting my fatigue, and I _was_ feeling warm, so I let L push me back gently. "What," I said, realizing he wasn't intending on laying back down. "You're not going to stop watching me?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "You worried me. I will continue to watch until I am certain there won't be a repeat of this episode."

 _Basically the rest of the night._ I found it oddly hard to be irritated about that. Shaking my head blearily against the pillow, I allowed my eyes to close and consciousness to drift away. Another nightmare awaited, surly. But with L's owl eyes watching me throughout the rest of the night, I found it much easier to bear.

†††

The next morning I awoke feeling as if someone had taken sandpaper to my throat. I groaned, sitting up, and immediately feeling as though someone had thrown me into a furnace. _I'm not allowed to be sick!_ Rubbing my eyes, I briefly glanced to where L should have been working, and paused. The detective was passed out, asleep beside me! Frowning at this rare occurrence, I took a moment to observe him. His obsidian eyes were lidded, though the dark circles remained. His hair was matted, as per usual, and sticking up at odd angles. What was worse, his shirt had bunched up during the night so that it rested dangerously high on his chest. He shifted in his sleep. Some of his dark hair fell onto his face, prompting him to crinkle up his nose in an oddly sweet way. I nearly laughed, reaching out and brushing the hair away—

Wait, what the hell was I doing? I drew my hand back as if I'd been burned. I wasn't supposed to think anything of this guy! He'd cuffed me to him, imprisoned me, and—

 _And you like him._

What? I do not!

 _Liar._

I growled at my brain, shutting down the thought process just in time for L's eyes to flutter open blearily. "Ah, Light," he groaned, sitting up. His shirt fell back over his stomach. "I apologize. How long have you been up?"

"Minutes," I responded, hoping he wouldn't notice the raspy quality of my voice. "Don't worry about it."

His eyes narrowed in that concerned way of his that I'd grown so accustomed to over the past few days. "You sound ill."

"Just a sore throat, nothing serious. Can we get going? We have things to work on."

L shook his head. "I think I would like to play a game this morning."

I frowned. "A game? Like tennis again?"

"Hmm, no… I was thinking more like chess. Are you up to it?"

"Depends. Is this just your way of getting me to rest since you think I'm sick?"

"Yes."

"Then I agree."

L smiled, truly smiled—then reached into his pocket. He unlocked the cuffs with the key, then attached his end of the chain to the headboard. "What happened to me escaping this way?" I asked, amused.

"Your weakened state will bind you better than any chain," L responded. He made it to the bookshelf and pulled the board game off the shelf, bringing it back to me. He tugged open the lid and set up the board on the bed. Then he crouched, feet beneath him, and pointed to me. "You will move first."

I sighed. "That's very Kira-like, Ryuzaki. Are you sure you're not trying to imply something?"

He shook his head. "I do not wish to discuss Kira today. For now, let there be L and Light, not Ryuzaki and Kira."

I raised a brow, surprised. "If that is what you wish, then that is how it shall be." I reached out and moved a pawn forward. "So, L, are you ready to lose?"

He looked me in the eyes. "I don't plan to."

†††

Beyond held a pen in his hand, the inky tip hovering inches from the paper of the black notebook. Write a name, the Shinigami had said… write name and the person would die. He snuck a glance at his computer. He could kill the task force this way; he knew their names. He could even kill L with this notebook. Yes, L Lawliet would die should he brush the pen against paper in _exactly_ the right way. But where was the fun in that? Beyond laughed in a way he supposed could be considered maniacal. No, before he killed L— _if_ he killed L—he would have to defeat him in a way that once and for all proved his superiority. That meant that he couldn't just kill them all with the Death Note. He wanted to outsmart them all.

Ah, but he was skipping over a vital piece of information.

Now that he knew the rules of the Death Note and had had a long conversation with Ryuk, he knew that Light Yagami was Kira. Or rather, he _used_ to be Kira, but had long since forgotten due to giving up possession of the notebook. Apparently Kira had buried the notebook beneath a tree in some far-off place before giving up possession. That was the same notebook that Ryuk had dug up out of boredom and given to Beyond. As long as that notebook was in Beyond's hands, Light was completely devoid of his memories of being Kira. What was left behind was a soft, innocent teenager.

Beyond's teeth tugged on the tip of his thumb. Now that Light was no longer Kira, his life meant nothing to him. But… Beyond glanced at the monitor, hand still holding the pen inches from the paper of the Death Note. His eyes fell upon the profile of the Yagami boy. The picture of him was perfect, with not one hair out of place on his head, and his beautiful amber eyes gazing into the camera soulfully. Beyond was fascinated. To think that this boy had murdered thousands of criminals… it was stunning. Breathtaking. He just had to know what Kira was really like…

Beyond dropped the pen, leaning back in his chair. His mind was made up. He would restore Kira's memories, if not just to meet the original murderer who had outsmarted L for so long. He longed so very much to be close to Kira.

"Ryuk," he said, turning his head halfway to regard the Shinigami. "You said that the other Shinigami gave another notebook to someone other than the original Kira, right?"

"Yep. You got it." The crunch of an apple being chewed filled the room.

"Can you tell me who has the notebook currently?"

"Nope, I have no idea who Rem gave it to. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Hmm… that's a problem." Beyond reached for the jar of jam on the desk mindlessly. He dipped a few fingers into the sticky substance and brought them to his lips. "I need to get my hands on that other notebook."

"Huh? Why?"

Beyond shot an angry glance back at Ryuk. "I want Kira to regain his memories, but I don't want to give him my Death Note. So I need the other notebook. The notebook that the other shinigami gave to some random human."

Ryuk raised a brow, bits of apple flying from his jaws as he chomped away. "Interesting. How are you going to find the notebook?"

"I don't know just yet." Beyond dipped his finger back into the jam. Mmm… strawberry. "At some point I'm going to want to find a way to get security cameras of my own in there…" Beyond leaned in towards the monitor, placing a finger gently on the screen as he gazed at Kira. "What a beautiful boy," he mused. "Don't worry… soon I'll rescue you from captivity."

†††

We never did make it to work that day. After the chess match (which had been a close win for L) we'd end up in the kitchen for an early lunch, talking about whatever came to mind except for the Kira case. Afterwards I'd suggested going to work, but L had swiftly offered to introduce me to a new book instead. This book ended up being _To Earth and Back,_ a book about so many topics that it couldn't be accurately described. The main character, Briar, traveled the world seeking out solutions to her deepest conflicts—but at every turn she encountered dozens of side characters with their own problems. It was philosophical, intriguing, tragic, comedic… it was about everything, and nothing at all. It was truly a fascinating piece, as L had told me shortly before handing me the novel. A work of literary art.

"I particularly like this line," L said at one point, leaning over my shoulder to brush his fingers over the page. His hair brushed my cheek as he spoke. "Yet each man kills the thing he loves, by each let this be heard, some do it with a bitter look, some with a flattering word, the coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword." He smiled gently through the curtain of hair separating us. Straightening, he said, "Rather mystic, isn't it? And symbolic." We'd locked eyes then, sharing an odd sort of glance. He'd cleared his throat and leaned away abruptly, shoulders hunched.

After that had been dinner, with me eating soup and L going for some sticky sweet pastry that was slathered in caramel and chocolate. By then it was around ten in the evening, and L insisted that I lay down. So there we lay, beside each other, comfortable with each other for the first time since I'd been released. The book was lying on my lap, a slip of paper marking my place around the two hundred page mark.

"So," L said, turning on his side to regard me. "Has this day made you feel more at ease?"

"Definitely," I said with a warm smile. "I didn't know you could be such a relaxing person to be around, L."

His lips quirked upwards at the use of his name. "And I had no idea you were so good at chess, Light. I would say this day has benefitted us both."

And it had. Though I could still feel the haziness in my brain caused by what was apparently illness, I felt the best I had in weeks. No, months. L had been startlingly fun to be around, despite his awkward persona. In fact, this entire day had shrouded me in a cloud of uncharacteristic happiness. And so when L curled up, I had no problems with the fact that he was partly on my half of the bed. And if his head was leaning on my shoulder, I didn't say anything about it. The insomniac needed his sleep whenever he could get it, after all.

†††

I awoke the next morning earlier than L, once again. And the first thing I felt was the churning in my stomach. Immediately I knew what was going to happen—my stomach was going to empty itself with a vengeance. I lurched upwards and leaned over the side of the bed, managing to control myself until I positioned my head over the trashcan before promptly expelling everything I'd eaten in the past twenty-four hours. I stayed that way, half-slumped over the side of the bed, until my nausea faded enough for me to straighten. I was horrified. I hadn't been sick to the point of throwing up in years. I couldn't believe that I'd managed to get so sick _now_ of al times. All my years of taking such good care of my body, eating right and abstaining from most junk food, it had come down to this.

I felt slightly betrayed.

"Light?"

Damn. I threw myself back against the pillows before L's eyes focused on me, hoping he wouldn't notice that I'd been up. "You're awake?"

"Only just now…" He sat up. "Unfortunately today will be a work day. Are you feeling up to it?"

 _No. I feel like shit._ "Of course."

"Then let's get up." We both rose, and a wave of nausea hit me again. I managed to force myself not to throw up, however, and dressed as per usual. I thanked my lucky stars that L had neglected to notice the trashcan slightly out of place, or the fact that at the first possible moment I tied off the top of the bag just in case Watari happened to notice when he came in to empty the trash, as he did daily.

I felt slightly proud of my deception, even though my stomach still felt awful. And it was beginning to become difficult to ignore the terrible heated pressure building between my eyes…

†††

We came into the workroom to find the task force in a panic. Papers were flying everywhere, computers were running strange programs that I'd never seen, and the members of the task force were either typing furiously, talking loudly, or in Matsuda's case, running towards us at full speed.

"Ryuzaki!" he cried, skittering to a halt. "Kira's gone on a rampage! Killings are up more than they've ever been before!"

"What?" I gasped, surprised, nausea forgotten for the moment. "And it was just completely random?"

"Nothing is ever random," L said darkly. "This happened for a reason. Tell me, Matsuda, have the regular killings of the businessmen continued?"

He looked surprised, as if he hadn't thought to check. Aizawa answered for him, saying, "Yeah, there have been no changes. Criminals are still dying as well."

"Then it seems simple," L said. "Light, what do you think?"

I shook my head hazily. Damn… was my headache getting worse? My vision blurred for a heartbeat. "It's obvious." And it was. What was Kira thinking, pulling this? "We've speculated that Kira can move from one person to another, and also the fact that there may be more than one Kira moving from person to person. What appears to have happened here is just that—Kira's power has moved to another person, while most likely killing businessmen to cover his tracks." Damn it, I was beginning to slur, however slight it was.

L nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't noticed my brief lapse in speech. "That is correct. Although it seems rather reckless… something like this has never happened before. He's always been so careful."

I shrugged hazily. "Perhaps Kira has chosen the wrong person this time around."

"Maybe," L agreed. He suddenly looked me dead in the eyes. "Light, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Ruyzaki. Worry about the case, not me."

He frowned deeply. "Matsuda, have you noticed anything else?"

The ditzy detective shook his head. "No, that's it. Just a slew of murders overnight!"

If an uncomfortable heat hadn't been building behind my eyes just then, I would have laughed. _Just,_ I thought. _When did a sudden onslaught of deaths become a 'just' to us?_ I pulled L along with me shakily to our desk, and seated myself at the computer. "Well," I said, "Let's get to work. Surely there's something we can work with here." I took to the keyboard, raising a hand to wipe away the sheen of sweat I was sure was building on my forehead. I could sense L's gaze on my back. He hadn't sat down yet.

"Light," he said after a moment. "Are you quite sure you are feeling well?"

"Yes!" I snapped, a little harshly. "Why the sudden obsession?"

He blinked, looking slightly surprised. "You merely looked pale. I was concerned." With that, he sat down and was lost to the computer.

My eyes remained locked on him even after he turned away. I found his concern endearing… or at least, I would have if I had the ability to focus through the searing heat that just seemed to be getting hotter. 

I snapped myself out of it, focusing my eyes on the computer with a few blinks. I hoped that I wasn't about to pass out. At least the task force seemed to be settling down after the chaos we'd walked in on, thankfully. I busied myself with sorting through the various names of the murdered criminals. I frowned. Something was odd here, even to my addled brain. Just to be sure of my hunch, I quickly checked the times of the victims' deaths. A few clicks and prods, and the whole list was arranged into the right order—time of death, rather than the order in which they had been broadcast. And yes… the order was different. I frowned. If the new Kira was killing criminals as they were broadcast, then they should be in the same order both in accordance with time of death and time of broadcast. But they _weren't._ Now, why was that? I scanned the names, a deep frown setting in. The criminals had been arranged so that five had died within forty seconds of each other. Brenda Adams, Brian Dillon, Bobby Burns… "B," I whispered in a voice so low that not even L could hear. _They all start with B. Is this really such a juvenile code?_ I wiped my hand across my forehead. Sweat was beginning to gather. When had it gotten so hot? The next group of people had names beginning with E. Then Y. Then O, N, and lastly, D. D.

"Beyond."

"What?" L looked up at me, and to my surprise, his eyes were clouded with something akin to fear. "What did you just say?"

"Beyond," I repeated myself blearily. The slur was affecting my voice again, though L looked too frightened to notice. "Look at the times of death—they're arranged to spell out a word: Beyond."

"Beyond?" Soichiro echoed, catching on. "What on earth are we supposed to do with that? Ruyzaki?"

"Probably a coincidence, right?" Matsuda asked dimly.

"Ryuzaki?" I stared directly into the detective's eyes… and found nothing. His expression had gone completely blank, as if the gears in his head had stopped turning. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"No…" he whispered. "Not Beyond… it has to be wrong!"

"Ryuzaki!" Soichiro reached out, clasping a hand to his shoulder. "What is Beyond?"

"Not what," he snarled, anger seeping into his expression. "Who. Beyond Birthday, leaving a blatant flag for us to locate him by." He finally looked up, hair falling from furious eyes. "Beyond Birthday, or B, was supposed to be my successor. However, he went somewhat insane, escaping our childhood home and going on a murder spree in LA. He was caught, of course, but it would seem that he's escaped prison. He's a monster, and he will stop at nothing to destroy me. That is why he has done this—because he knows I am working this case, and wants to let me know that he is coming for me."

The room was oddly silent for a long moment, in which all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, making me hyper-aware of the ever-increasing ache in my head. Then Mogi said, "So basically he's your creepy, murderous stalker?"

"I wish he was merely that," L growled. "He looks like me, dresses like me, talks like me. He is so much more than a mere 'stalker' as you put it. His intellect is second only to my own, and his cruel nature gives him an obvious advantage. And now… he has somehow gained the powers of Kira! Therefore, we _must_ find him and take him down!"

My head throbbed suddenly, forcing a groan from my unwilling lips. "Ahh…"

Immediately L's gaze was upon me. "Light?"

I shook my head. " 'm fine… don' worry." I clutched at the desk. Oh god, was I going to throw up again? My stomach lurched.

"You are not fine," L said sharply. I thought I saw him turn to the task force. But then again, the world was slightly blurry so I couldn't say for certain. "We will discuss this once I've seen Light up to our room," he said shortly. "Light, can you stand?"

"Of course I can stand…" I muttered, relieved to find that my voice was obeying me again. I pushed myself up. Took one step. And then the world tilted on its axis, and I thought I imagined familiar arms closing around my body just before darkness claimed my mind.

 **Leave a review if you enjoyed!**


	3. Eclipse

**Welcome to chapter three! A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed, it was really great to see that people are actually taking an interest in this! To Fluffy237 and others interested, I plan to post on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays (with the obvious exception being yesterday and today).**

 **Now, about this chapter. Keep in mind that I intentionally made L act like a bit of an idiot. It may be OOC, but I thought that it would fit better in this case. I ended up playing with the rules quite a bit later on in the story anyways, so in retrospect I don't think it's that bad. Also, Beyond is insane. With that said, I hope you enjoy, and be sure to leave a review!**

 **Chapter 3: Eclipse**

"Light!" L cried, shaking the boy's shoulder. The teen remained unresponsive, a pained look on his face. L lay him flat on the ground of the workroom and felt his skin. It was searing, dangerously hot. How had he not noticed this in the morning? How had he not seen the sickness lingering in Light's eyes? Had it really gotten this severe without him saying _anything?_

 _I'm supposed to be a genius!_ L thought furiously. _How could I let this happen?_

L hauled Light over his shoulder and shot at the task force, "Don't worry, I'll take care of him."

He ignored Soichiro's protests and fled to the elevator. Once he was safely back in his room, he flopped Light down on the bed, immediately uncuffed him, and grabbed the thermometer. A small beep announced his temperature— 102.6 exactly. Swearing, L darted to the bathroom and wet a rag, returning to place it on Light's forehead. He groaned in his sleep, twisting about in an agonized manner.

"You're an idiot," L told him, gently. "Didn't I tell you to inform me if your condition got any worse? What was to gain from working yourself to exhaustion?"

 _Well, he did figure out that it was Beyond,_ a small voice pointed out. L swiftly shut the voice up and continued by unbuttoning Light's shirt and peeling it off of his body, which was sticky with sweat. "Being a genius doesn't earn you anything if you're taken down so easily by a common virus," he growled angrily. "Come on, Light, wake up!" Light remained unresponsive, merely shifting in his sleep. L winced as a groan met his ears. He was one of the brightest minds of his generation, a genius, and he couldn't keep his friend from suffering. It seemed wrong, cruel almost. Why hadn't he ever put time into developing some sort of vaccine for an illness such as this? Surely, with his intelligence, he could have come up with _something,_ even if the brightest minds in the scientific community hadn't been able to.That way he wouldn't be here, watching Light writhe in his sleep. _Well, that's easy,_ that little voice scoffed. _You never developed a cure because you don't care about anyone but yourself, and you don't get sick._ L shook his head to clear away the polluting thoughts. _Well, that's not true anymore, is it?_ The thoughts went on. _You care about Li—_

"Stop it!" he bit out angrily. "Don't you take that thought one letter further! You are not allowed to feel anything for the person who is most likely a mass murderer!"

But despite that, he still found himself brushing his fingers across Light's too-hot skin when he next whimpered in that pained way. He still found himself wishing away his agony. He shuddered, resting his palm over Light's chest. There he found his heartbeat pulsing, and he was comforted, if only for a moment, that his friend was still breathing. L settled down to keep vigil over his felled friend. As long as it took, he swore, he would be beside Light.

†††

It was about an hour later when L failed to notice the door swishing open and Watari entering the room. "L," he began. "Has his condition changed?

L shook his head. "His fever has gone up by .1 of a degree. He has not yet awoken."

Watari cleared his throat awkwardly. "L… perhaps you would consider—?"

"No." he said sharply. "No hospital. I need to be able to watch him."

The elderly butler sighed, lowering his head. "If his fever rises much higher, I fear we may have no choice but to take him in."

L squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't say that. It's not going to get worse."

"We must be realistic—"

"No!" L spat. "He's going to stay here and recover, and go back to reading his book!"

"I have no doubt that he will be okay," Watari said carefully. "But a hospital may be better for his condition at the moment."

L took a moment to regain his level head. Then he said, "Very well. If his temperature rises above 103 I will relinquish control of his medical situation."

"At least summon your personal doctor, L."

"No. I will not allow anyone to touch him. Please bring the necessary monitoring equipment to my room. Thank you."

"As you wish." Watari exited, leaving L to continue watching the younger Yagami. L reached out hesitantly, as if afraid of Light's awakening, and brushed a clump of sweat-slickened hair from his face. L chewed on his thumb, half tempted to grab Light and attempt to shake him awake. He shook his head, common sense returning, reminding himself that in his sickened state, the teen could use all the rest he could get.

L stood, grabbing the once-damp rag that had long since dried and fallen from Light's forehead. It took only a few moments to dampen the cloth again and return to Light. There he sat, wiping the sweat from the teen's skin. When he had finished with Light's forehead he moved to his chest, disgusted by the sheen of sweat that covered it. When he deemed Light sufficiently clean (he refused to remove his pants to clean his legs or… other regions) he rinsed out the cloth and replaced it on Light's forehead. He gnawed on his thumb.

"What else can be done…?" He wondered aloud. "Tylenol? No… he's not conscious…" He sat back and rubbed furiously at his eyes. All of his genius had seemingly slipped out while he wasn't watching, leaving him completely stumped over something so mundane as a fever. He puzzled over what else to do for many more minutes before deciding that there was simply nothing else to be done. And so it was that L crouched beside Light and kept watch silently, his features drawn.

†††

Hours later L still crouched beside Light's bed, his face twisted into an expression of worry. He didn't like this, seeing Light so weak. He was supposed to be strong, almost god-like. No—he stopped himself. That was Kira. This was Light. And Light Yagami was anything but god-like. L shifted in his chair.

"L," the intercom buzzed. The detective glanced at it.

"This is L," he responded thoughtlessly. "What is it you require?"

"We have a message," Watari said. "From Beyond. He's requesting your presence."

L tensed. "I will be there. Watari, come watch over Light for me when I'm gone."

"As you wish, L."

L got to his feet and checked Light's temperature for the nth time, not surprised in the least to find it stubbornly 102.7. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. L turned, hearing the door open to announce Watari's arrival. He walked past the man and into the hall, shoulders hunched painfully. When he reached the elevator he easily slipped inside and pressed the correct button. The elevator whirred to life. L leaned back against the wall and thought back to Light, who remained thrashing endlessly in his fevered sleep. The detective trusted Watari to take care of Light while he was away listening to whatever Beyond had to say, but it didn't make him happy to leave the teen.

Which brought him to the topic of Beyond Birthday, his former companion. L shuddered just thinking of the man and his intentions. Beyond wouldn't just seek to win, oh no, that was below him. He would want to destroy, maim, conquer. He would want all of the task force on their knees, _especially_ the great detective himself. He would relish their pain and stop only when the words of surrender were spoken. Absolute submission would be the only out. L was determined not to take that out. If L's life were the only one at risk, he would gladly step forward and sacrifice it rather than lose his pride. But was he really willing to sacrifice the lives of everyone on the task force for his own selfish desires? He normally made it a habit not to become emotionally involved with his teammates, and this was no exception. However, that didn't mean he was heartless. He didn't want anyone to die.

The elevator dinged to signal his arrival in the workroom.

"Hey, Ryuzaki!" Matsuda was the first to notice his arrival. "Beyond is waiting for you."

L nodded, moving up to the monitor and microphone where Beyond's voice would no doubt emanate from. There was no image, he noted. He picked up the headset nervously and slipped it onto his head. He adjusted the mic and the volume until he was sure he was the only one that could hear from it, then reached out and pressed the button that would allow Beyond's voice to flow through the headset, while simultaneously scrambling his voice. "Beyond," L said into the scrambler. "What is it you want?"

He cackled. L noted with some irritation that he wasn't using a voice scrambler. Well, two could play at that game. He pushed the device away, turning it off. There would be no masks here.

"Have you noticed?" he cried. "Have you noticed what's been happening?"

"You have been spelling out your name with the names of the people you kill."

"Very good, very good!" Another laugh. "I'm impressed, L. I half thought you wouldn't check the dates of broadcast and times of death in correlation to each other! We both know how utterly unintelligent you are, after all!"

"It wasn't me, actually," L said smoothly, brushing off the attempted insult. "It was someone on the task force."

"Hmm?" he sounded surprised. "Who was it, then? Was it Soichiro, Matsuda, Aizawa, or perhaps Mogi? No, let me guess… it was Light Yagami, the Kira suspect!"

L could barely bite back his angry hiss. Beyond already knew too much. "It's none of your business who cracked your juvenile code."

"So it _was_ Light! I knew it! I'll have to take him out, oh yes… I'm so very _interested_ in that one! Say, do you mind putting him on the line?"

"He's not available," L said shortly. "So you can drop it."

"Unfortunate," he sighed. "I'm waiting for you to find me, L. Why is it taking you so long? You know, if you take much longer, _I'll_ have to come to _you._ "

"I am otherwise occupied at the moment."

"Otherwise occupied?" he sounded disbelieving. "Don't tell me there something else in your life more important than stopping me!"

"You're hardly a threat to me. I estimate another twenty four hours before I am able to apprehend you and put an end to this." It was spoken in monotone, so flatly that even Beyond was surprised. "Now, did you call me merely to gloat, or did this have a purpose?"

"Oh, just to inform you that I've entered the game, and that Kira's power is at my disposal. You know what that means, don't you? I know your name and face, and that of everyone on the task force. I could kill you all, right here and now!"

"Then why don't you?" L asked flatly, though he was already sure of the answer, having puzzled it out while he sat beside Light. "You could guarantee yourself the victory right here and now, but you won't. Not until you're satisfied that you've beaten me not just with your silly power, but with your own intelligence. I must say, Beyond, you're acting quite petty. If I were in your situation, you would already be dead."

"Ooh, the great detective L would really kill me?"

"If it means saving the lives of your future victims, then yes, I would." _Besides,_ L thought, his hand dropping to subtly brush over the gun tucked into his waistband. _It's not like I haven't killed before._

Beyond let out a greatly exaggerated sigh. "Ever the hero, L. When will you drop the act and come play with me again?"

"I don't plan to. I will catch you and deliver you to the nearest prison, and you will not be escaping this time."

"You're no fun," Beyond responded, and L could almost _hear_ his pout through the screen. "If you won't play with me, then maybe I'll just have to give you a little incentive."

L narrowed his eyes, though he knew the mass murderer on the other side of the screen wouldn't be able to see the hostile gesture. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Beyond said evasively. "What do you think I mean?"

Gritting his teeth, L thought, _the bastard always has been a drama queen. Leave it to him to pull a stunt like this. Murdering dozens of people just to leave me a message…_

Apparently deciding that he wasn't going to get an answer, Beyond whined, "Come on, Lawli! Guess!"

"You're acting like a child!" the detective bit out. He lowered the volume on his headset nervously, glancing back to the task force—but it was clear that they hadn't been able to hear the foolish nickname Beyond had given him back in Wammy's House. A nickname, L thought bitterly, that was far too close to his real name for comfort. "And I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from calling me by that name."

"Oh, what's wrong, Lawli?" he cooed. "Afraid that I'll slip up and accidentally say your real name instead?"

"You won't have a chance to slip up, for you will be locked away soon enough."

Beyond paused. "Fine then, _L_." The creak of furniture sounded through the headset, and L assumed that the murderer was leaning back in his chair. "I'm going to play a game with you. Do you want to know the rules?"

L opened his mouth to snap at Beyond that he'd already said he refused to play, but the murderer cut him off.

"If you can catch me, then I'll relinquish control my power without a fight. But if you can't…" A laugh shrieked through the headset. "Then you all die! Isn't that fun?"

"I refuse to play your foolish game. I will find you, and then—"

"Well if you find me you _win_ silly!" Beyond's chair squeaked again, and his voice became louder as he presumably leaned in towards the microphone. "And if you don't play," he continued, his voice suddenly soft and dangerous, a far cry from the light, playful tone he'd put on a moment ago. "If you don't play, then I'll murder all of you. You know me well, L. After what you saw through Naomi Misora's eyes in Los Angeles, I'm sure that you'll be willing to dance this dance with me. You wouldn't want to find your dear task force mangled and left for dead like those three, poor victims from my _last_ murdering spree."

L gripped the mic so hard he thought it would break. "I will find you before that happens."

"And I will be awaiting your arrival!" he crowed, all malice forgotten. "Have fun, my precious L!" The screen went black. For a long moment L sat in silence, mind swirling. Beyond hadn't left him much of a choice in the matter—he'd have to track him down.

"Ryuzaki?" Soichiro asked hesitantly.

L looked away from the screen sharply, not meeting the task force's gaze.

"I suppose I should tell you everything about this murderer," he said at last. "So pay attention, because I will only tell you once."

†††

Beyond cackled, throwing the microphone to the side. He had L right where he wanted him! But to make sure… He returned to his computer. "Ryuk," he said. "I want you to go put up surveillance everywhere in the task force headquarters. No blind spots, understand?"

The Shinigami twisted his head around, responding, "You're asking _me_ to do it? No way. I'm just an observer here, remember? Do it yourself if you want surveillance up so bad."

Beyond huffed, "Not even for apples?"

Ryuk hesitated. "How many apples?"

"How many do you want?"

The shinigami's eyes lit up childishly; his expression of joy didn't fit well with his ghoulish face and reddish yellow eyes. "Ten crates!"

"Ten?" the murderer echoed, stunned. "There's no way you can eat that many before they go bad!"

"Ten." Ryuk repeated. "No more, no less."

"How about five and the promise that doing this will make things a lot more interesting?"

More hesitation. Then, finally, Ryuk said, "Will it really make things that much more interesting?"

"Oh, it will make things _very_ interesting," Beyond purred. "Trust me on that."

Ryuk only hesitated a moment longer before announcing, "Fine, then. Give me the cameras."

Beyond smirked, reaching for the bag full of machinery. _Yes,_ he thought. _Everything will fall into place soon._

†††

L opened the door to his room and entered, at last relieving Watari of the duty of watching over Light. The task force had seemed utterly horrified by L's description of Beyond. And after hearing his challenge to L, they'd seemed completely dedicated to tracking him down before anything more serious than a few dozen murders could occur.

And of course, the task force had asked about Light. L had responded to their endless questions by saying that he was being taken care of, and that his fever would break soon (that was a lie; he had no idea when it would end). He'd next given the task force something to research, but refused to have any part in it until Light was back on his feet, despite Beyond's threat. He needed to keep an eye on the Kira suspect, he'd said—but no one believed him. It had been nearly a day, and Light remained unconscious. All could tell that his state was worrying the detective.

L slowly walked to stand at Light's bedside. The teen looked no better than when he'd left. He was still sweating, shaking lightly in his sleep. Frowning, L looked closer.

Was… he _shivering?_ L ran a hand across his forehead, finding it just as alarmingly hot as ever. Why the hell was Light cold? L swiftly reached for the blankets he'd tossed off the bed previously. He piled them onto Light's unconscious form with as much care as he could manage, eventually ending up simply lumping them onto him until a mountain of cloth towered above him.

"Light," L said softly when his work was done. He shook him gently. "You need to wake up. I need to know if something's seriously wrong."

The teen shook his head.

L perked up, seeing the movement and calculating the probability of it meaning Light was coming around. It wasn't very high. But to his surprise, that seemed to be exactly what was happening. Light shifted slightly, eyes squeezing shut as a groan escaped him.

"Light, open your eyes, please." He was careful to keep any emotion out of his voice. And he refused to acknowledge the tidal wave of emotion roaring though him at the sight of Light, clearly in pain and teetering on the edge of consciousness.

He struggled with the haze of sleep for a few long moments, then his eyes finally snapped open and met L's with a sickly gasp.

†††

My head throbbed. My chest hurt. And I was so hot that even the blankets around me couldn't keep out the chill. What the hell was going on? Where was I? And why did I feel so awful? In a rush my memories came back to me. I remembered throwing up, going to work, and collapsing in front of the task force. Damn it, L was going to kill me!

"Light? Light, can you hear me?"

That was L… I knew it was. _I'm fine,_ I wanted to say. _This is just a little fever…_ But it came out as a jumbled blob of syllables. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn't listen. I tugged at them, fighting… and finally the lids obeyed me.

"L," I choked out. I was too fevered to remember to use his other pseudonym, and he didn't correct me.

"Light," he responded, relief seeping from his voice. "Thank god… I was getting worried."

"What happened?" I managed, though it didn't sound anything like I wanted it to.

"You passed out," L explained. "You've been out for almost a day."

"Mm." I couldn't form words.

"And you were right about Beyond. He called headquarters and wanted to speak to you and me both. He has Kira's power and all of our full names and faces."

I shot him a glance that I hoped said, _he knows your full name?_

"Yes, he knows my full name. He's always known it, and he has yours as well, and everyone else's. He could murder us all here and now if he wished. That is why I am so concerned. But you see, the thing about Beyond is that he doesn't want to just win. He wants to _defeat_ , he wants to _rule_. He wants to crush us underfoot and have us all on our knees, begging for mercy. And that will be his downfall." He looked at me. "Do you think you'll recover soon?" I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off. "No, don't answer that—you'll lie."

I managed a short, throaty laugh. He knew me too well.

"You'll stay here until your fever is back down," he said. "I'll have Watari bring you something to eat, and you will take medicine to fight the fever. What's more, once you recover you're going to start sleeping more—at least seven hours a night. You'll be set on a rehabilitation schedule to help your body become as strong as it once was. This would not have happened if I had simply done that in the first place, or been attentive enough to notice when your condition became this bad."

I couldn't protest if I wanted to. So I simply nodded, weak though it was. My eyelids were drooping again, and heat was still flaring up within me. I groaned.

L seemed to understand. "You'll be allowed to rest soon, Light, after you take some medicine. You'd better be more awake the next time your eyes open. I don't like you like this."

Was L serious? I tried to puzzle it out, but my mind kept putting up roadblocks of fire wherever I sought entry to any rational part of my mind. Sleep was a welcoming fog, drawing me in.

L must have sensed my fading consciousness, because he said, "Hey, no! You're not allowed to go back to sleep until you've taken some medicine and eaten something!"

I wanted to tell L that I was fine, that I wasn't hungry… but sleep had already dragged me back under by the time I had put the beginnings of a sentence together.

Amidst all the talking, neither person noticed the shadow slip into the room, bag of equipment in hand, and place a camera carefully in a place where neither beings would notice. The shadow shot the two men a glance, cackled, and left without a trace.

†††

Beyond studied the computer screen, watching the feed. The wiretap had been implanted within the camera, so the audio wasn't perfectly clear… but it would do for his purposes.

"So Light Yagami has fallen ill," he murmured. "Struck down by a mere fever, no less! How embarrassing for the mighty Kira." He shook his head, watching as the used-to-be god drifted off to sleep once again. And how interesting! Was L really watching him with _affection_? And had he seriously just reached out to brush hair out of Light's eyes? Beyond chuckled. So that was how it was, was it? Well then, there was only one thing for it!

Ryuk popped back in, arms crossed. "I did what you asked. So then, what's your next move? And where are those apples?"

Beyond directed the shinigami to the crates with a single finger jabbed outwards. He watched emotionlessly as the shinigami eagerly ripped into the first crate and began eating. "I think my plans have changed, Ryuk." Beyond narrowed his eyes. "I think I'll be getting my hands on Light Yagami a little earlier than previously planned. Which means that I need to move fast in order to recover the second Death Note." His eyes never left the screen, watching as L tenderly wiped Light's forehead with a damp cloth.

The Shinigami looked surprised. "What, seriously?"

"Look at the way L watches him," Beyond whispered, ignoring Ryuk. "Look at the affection behind those blank, expressionless eyes!" He locked eyes with the shinigami. "I will find a way to bring Light Yagami to me, and I give him his memories back. And after that…" he grinned toothily. "Well, you'll just have to stick around and see what happens, Ryuk. I _did_ promise you something entertaining, after all." He shut the lid of his computer and stood, stretching his arms far above his head. "You know, I've always been a fan of the classics. And a classic kidnapping will work out perfectly." A savage grin found its way to his face. "L will suffer because of his feelings for this boy."

†††

"He's gotten worse, Watari." L didn't take his eyes off Light as he spoke. The boy had his cheek pressed hard into his pillow, his hands fisted into the sheets as if they were attacking him.

"Yes, L, he has. Perhaps you will now allow me to take him to the nearest medical establishment?"

L bit his lip thoughtfully. "Just a little longer," he urged. Just a little longer… he couldn't wait much longer before being forced to take action to stop this. It had been nearly three days since L had gone to take Beyond's message, and Light's condition had worsened worryingly. He was forced now to remember his promise to Watari about taking Light to the hospital should his temperature rise above 103. Unbeknownst to Watari, Light's temperature had risen above 103 several hours ago, and it was now beginning to pull closer and closer to 103.5. Still, L refused to accept that Light needed a hospital. It just wasn't possible that someone so strong had been broken apart by something so common. "You can pull through this," he promised Light, gnawing at his thumb. "Don't make me take you to a hospital." He may have no choice soon enough, however. Light was beginning to look gaunt, and was no doubt feeling the effects of dehydration, despite the fact that L had managed to force some liquid into him a day prior. But ever since that brief awakening Light had refused to regain consciousness. He seemed determined to stay dead to the world. "Come on, Light."

The teen responded only by thrashing about weakly, no doubt a reaction to his fever-induced haze of discomfort.

"L," Watari said. "Would you like me to bring you something?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Bring me a single dosage of Tylenol and something to drink."

"As you wish."

It was only a few minutes before Watari brought him the drink—a large glass of orange juice—and the requested medicine, then departed loyally. L shifted Light's body so he was leaned up slightly. "Light," he said, shaking his shoulder. "Please, I need you to wake up and drink something and take some medicine. It's been days!" Yes, it had been days. Days since he had been able to have a conversation with the brown-haired teen.

Light shook his head blearily, sending relief blooming in L's chest. "Hurts…"

"I know it hurts, but you need some form of nourishment, hydration, and _help._ It will cool you down as well, if that makes it any more appealing." He brought the straw to his lips and held up the pills, stunned to see Light awake again after days sleeping. "Come on, just a few drinks."

His eyes opened, and at first L was thrilled—until he got a good look at them. They were hazy, the bright amber orbs obscured by the ill glaze. He didn't look _alive._ L shuddered. "Just a few sips," he said again, pressing the pills to Light's lips.

Light seemed to be having a hard time comprehending the situation. He closed his eyes again.

"No, Light. Wake up. Wake up!" He finally got Light's eyes open again, and forced him to swallow the pills and take a drink of the juice. He winced the moment the drink hit his tongue.

"N' good…" he groaned. "Hate th't flavor…"

L sighed. "I know you don't like it, but you need _something_." Light thrashed his head back and forth weakly, before slipping away again.

 _Hmm,_ L thought. _This is getting worse and worse… perhaps I should consider Watari's advice now._ He looked down at Light's sweaty face. _Only until morning,_ he decided. _If he's not any better by then, then Watari wins_. With that thought in mind, L settled himself at the foot of Light's side of the bed, his toes digging into the mattress. He observed the youth trembling for a few minutes longer, then could take it no longer. He inched forward, moving to lie on his side facing the suffering teen. Hesitantly, he reached out and draped one arm over his waist. When that invoked no reaction, he boldly pulled Light to his chest in a desperate embrace.

"You're not allowed to do this," L informed him shakily. "You're not supposed to be weak."

There was no response. All he got was a slight whimper as whatever dream Light was having became slightly worse. And in response, L simply carded his fingers through the boy's hair.

†††

L's eyes next opened when he felt Light yank himself out of his grasp to sit upright, lean over the side of the bed, and vomit into the trash can below. He groaned, holding his head as he fell back into L's embrace. "Told you…" he proclaimed, his words slurring just enough to be noticeable. "D'nt like that flavor…"

A terrible feeling took root in L's chest. He checked Light's temperature one last time. _No,_ he thought, a pang of terror racking him. His fever had gone up again! How was that possible?

Light shook his head weakly. Frantically, L straddled the boy and forcefully opened one eye, peering into it. Still glazed, unsteady. Did Light even recognize him? Clearly the answer was no, for Light's eyes flew open as he pushed himself away from the detective. "Get away!" he managed to gasp, pushing himself to the edge of the bed, then swinging his legs over and attempting to stand. That proved to be a bad idea for obvious reasons. Luckily for Light, L's sharp reflexes had him up and to him before the teen could hit the ground. L slipped himself easily beneath Light and caught him. Lowering him to the ground, L stared into the eyes of the boy.

"D'nt do th't to me…" Light slurred incomprehensibly. "'m not Kira…'m not!"

"I know," L lied softly. "I know you're not Kira. Come on, Light, let's get you back into bed."

As he spoke, a flicker of recognition crossed the teen's expression, and he gasped. "L," he begged. "L, please!" His fingers dug into L's shirt, already twisted and slightly pulled up by Light's struggles.

The great detective bit back a cry as Light's eyes slipped closed and his body went limp. "You're going to be okay," he assured shakily but calmly as he reached for his phone, swallowing the doubt swelling in his throat. "Watari," he said once the phone was answered. "Call an ambulance for Light Yagami."

 **Well, this ended up a little shorter than I would have liked, but this was the only stopping point for quite a while, so I decided to take it.** **Leave a review if you enjoyed!**

 **And just so you know, I had so many issues with uploading this that for a good few hours there this document was just sitting open on my computer with the word "help" written and nothing else. I even tried downloading a different browser to fix the problem. If that's not sad, I don't know what is.**


	4. Midnight

**IMPORTANT: It has been brought to my attention that I made quite a mistake in the last chapter. At this point in the investigation, L shouldn't know about the notebook—so for the sake of continuity, I edited the last chapter. Now, instead of talking about the notebook (which again, L shouldn't know about), Beyond simply refers to the notebook as Kira's power. You may want to go back and reread just the conversation between Beyond and L just to clarify. So, L does NOT know about the notebook yet. Sorry (really sorry), and thanks so much to the two reviewers that pointed that out. I can't tell you how much I cringed after realizing what happened.**

 **To Mika: Beyond's call was untraceable, even for L. Thanks for asking! And of course, thanks to everyone else who reviewed. You really made my day!**

 **Chapter 4: Midnight**

L crouched on the floor of his room, Light's body cradled in his lap. _How did I let this happen?_ He questioned himself endlessly as he raked his fingers through the boy's sweat-soaked hair. His normally perfect features were drawn into an expression of unease, his flesh paler than it should have been. He looked nearly deceased. Briefly he considered the possibility, then scolded himself for being so childish when he reminded himself that Light was quite literally gasping for breath, so he couldn't be _dead._ But the rational part of his brain seemed to be ignoring that fact, for all he could think about was the fact that Light had collapsed, he was in pain, and he could be about to _die!_ L clutched Light close in an attempt to quiet his mind, to convince himself that the collapsed teen was not, in fact, dying. Although the way he was gasping for breath didn't promise good fortune.

"L," Watari said from the doorway. "The ambulance is on its way. I will move Light downstairs, if you allow it."

L was too shaken to reply at first. What? What ambulance? Was there something wrong? He shook his head violently to clear the fog from his brain. "No," he said. "I will carry him." The detective wrapped his arms around Light and lifted him, fighting against his weight to carry him from the room and to the elevator. Light shifted weakly in his grasp, his breath still coming in short pants. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the elevator doors opened and L stepped out. They were on the ground floor now—and L could hear the sirens of the ambulance approaching. He lay Light on one of the sofas, not comprehending what was going on around him. He thought that maybe the task force was asking questions, that Soichiro was kneeling beside his son, that Watari had a hand on his shoulder—but then again, his mind was addled, so it might not have been real. Then, finally, the paramedics were there, and someone was asking him to step away. It was only then that he realized he hadn't let go of Light. As it was, Watari had to step in to pry his arms off the teen.

L insisted upon riding in the ambulance with Light under the declaration that he had to keep an eye on the Kira suspect. Of course, anyone present could see right through the shallow lie. He was simply too concerned to leave Light's side. The paramedics worked on Light as they rode. One hooked an IV into the back of his hand; another hooked up sensors that broadcasted Light's vitals. L was stunned to hear the irregular beat of his heart, and how the paramedics sounded so frantic while attempting to repair the damage done to his fevered body. His fever was dangerously high—they claimed that that, along with dehydration, was the cause of his collapse. They said L had made the right call in calling for the ambulance—the dangers of having this high a fever for this long were endless, and every second Light wasn't receiving treatment, the dangers grew greater in number. Of course, that only served to remind L of how careless he'd been with Light's life. He'd kept the boy, suffering, for upwards of four days, lying helpless in his room. His chest constricted at the very though of what the teen had been subjected to. L began to raise his thumb to his teeth— _no,_ he thought, lowering it. He had been gnawing on the abused finger far too often lately. It was beginning to crack and bleed.

They were at the hospital and in Light's room in what was probably minutes, but felt like seconds to the stunned detective. Time whirled around him too quickly, leaving him behind. One of the nurses questioned his wellbeing with a concerned look on her face, offering to bring a wheelchair so he didn't have to stand for more time than was necessary. L had refused politely (at least, he thought he did) before forcing himself to stand and follow the path down which they had taken Light. It… it hadn't sounded good, he knew. The fever had been too high for too long, and it already wasn't looking good…

 _No!_

L gritted his teeth, shaking his head violently. He couldn't let himself think like that, not now! He had to keep a level head, for Light's sake. What would he say if he learned the great detective was losing his head because he had fallen ill? He would be furious! _What the hell are you thinking?_ he'd say. _Do you want Kira to win? Are you just going to sit there and mope around, waiting for me to die? Go back to work, you moron!_ L almost smiled at that—it was exactly like what Light would say, were he conscious.

But he wasn't.

Because of L.

… There was that guilt again. Logically L knew he wasn't at fault for Light's fever. It had been a bodily response to being pushed to hard so soon after being released for confinement—

L winced. That made it his fault, then. He blinked, looking once again at his surroundings. Oh… when had he arrived in a hospital room? Or more appropriately, outside one. He was slouched over in a chair, not bothering to assume his signature crouch. He assumed that the nurse had seated him here before running in to work on Light. From inside the room he could hear distant beeps and clicks, and perhaps the muted voices of doctors and nurses. He couldn't be sure though, for he was aware of the state he was in mentally. He was frankly surprised that he had even been allowed in the building without being sent to some sort of psychiatric evaluation. If the blank stares hadn't done it, surely the lack of response would have.

But no, here he was, just as useless as he'd been since Light fell ill. He wanted to curl up at the thought, whither away. It wouldn't be the worst fate, he reasoned.

†††

Hours passed. Was it days now? No, it hadn't been days. He would have had to eat or drink if it had been days. Someone would have said something. So hours it was, then. He thought that Soichiro and the rest of the task force appeared at one point.

"Ryuzaki," Soichiro gasped, clasping onto his shoulders and shaking him lightly. "What's going on? What have they said?"

L stared blankly, before finally registering his question. "They… they said that it's bad."

Soichiro's expression softened. "Ryuzaki… I'm sorry about this. I know how hard you tried to keep it from coming to this."

L just rubbed the area at his wrist where the handcuffs should have been. They were gone now, of course. He couldn't quite remember where they had gone, or even when they had been removed. Everything in the past 24 hours seemed to be blurring together into one giant swirl of color and emotion. "Bad," he repeated, as if Soichiro hadn't heard him the first time. "The fever was too high for a long period of time. I'm sure you know the implications of such a thing…" His voice cracked. He nearly choked trying to control it. _Damn!_ He thought desperately. _Why am I letting this effect me in such a way? I shouldn't care this much, he probably hates me for this!_ The thought was depressing. Even more depressing was the thought that Light might not ever get to tell him how upset he was. After all, the fever had just been _so high,_ and severe damage to the brain wasn't something his logical mind could just rule out.

"It's okay, Ryuzaki," Mogi said softly, expression one of pity. "We know you did everything you could. Sometimes it just isn't enough."

"Just isn't… enough?" It didn't sound right to the addled mind of the detective. How could it not have been enough? He had done everything, _everything right,_ only to end up with… this. With a suspect that would most likely not make it through the night.

It was at that moment that the head doctor chose to emerge. L turned his head away. He didn't want to hear what he already knew, that the outlook was not at all positive. Sill, he heard it.

"What's the news?" Soichiro asked calmly.

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, no doubt unnerved by the group of people watching him so closely. "You are the patient's father, correct?"

Soichiro nodded shortly.

"Well, first off, I can tell you that it's not looking too good. His fever was unnaturally high, and it took a heavy toll on your son's body. Not only have his internal organs suffered from the illness, but the possibility of damage to the brain is high. Even if he recovers physically, he most likely won't be able to function as he did. He may simply fall into a coma and never awaken."

L sucked in a pained breath. No… he refused to believe it. Not Light!

"But that's assuming he makes it that long," the doctor went on. "As it is, the fever is being stubborn. Nothing we've tried is affecting it. At this rate, he won't live through the night."

It was too much. L could feel a wet heat building behind his eyes. _I refuse to cry! L does not cry!_ Clearly his body wasn't listening to his frantic pleas for it to just _stop._

"I… I understand." Soichiro's voice was shaking. "Thank you, doctor. Can we… stay here? Just for tonight."

The doctor nodded. "That would be best. If he has any other family, it would be best to call them before…"

"Yes, of course." Soichiro brushed past the doctor thoughtlessly and entered the room where his doomed son was lying. The rest of the task force followed. This left L alone to his thoughts. He refused to believe that it had come to this. That his lapse in judgment had led to what was most likely going to be Light's death. One silly little mistake… getting Light back on his feet and to work before he'd had a chance to build up his strength again…

L pushed himself to his feet and walked into Light's room. There he stood, behind Soichiro and the others, watching silently. Light was just as pale as he'd been when he'd collapsed. Too-white skin gleamed with sweat, eyes were squeezed closed, fists clenched. He was still struggling against dreams… though L was certain his movements had grown weaker considerably.

"Light…" Soichiro whispered, clutching his son's hand. Tears were rolling down his cheeks in a terrible display of affection.

"Chief Yagami," L said at last. "I don't want to bring this up now, but Sayu and your wife—"

He straightened jerkily. "Yes. I will call them now."

Then he was gone, and it was the task force and L staring down the youngest member of the team. Matsuda was in tears, the idiot, blubbering endlessly. Mogi and Aizawa looked saddened, but resolute. L noticed that Mogi was wearing his manager outfit—he must have just changed to head out on a job for Misa.

Misa… she should be told that her boyfriend was near death. L sneered at the thought—it was obvious to all that she loved Light, but he clearly showed no love for the teen model. She didn't _deserve_ Light, didn't deserve his love. _And I do?_ L questioned himself endlessly. He noticed Mogi and Aizawa leave the room. They cared, yes, but they most likely couldn't stomach the thought of being present at the moment of death. Could… could L watch Light Yagami die? Could he sit here in silence while his first and only friend breathed his last?

He… he didn't know. L reached out and took Light's hand. It was hot— _far_ too hot. He closed his eyes, bringing his forehead to rest on his palm. He imagined Light's caramel eyes—so filled with life and mystery. He imagined the way Light had looked at him after they'd played tennis, or after they'd eaten together in that little café. Then he looked at the pale skin of the boy lying before him, and imagined never seeing those brown orbs again. He imagined never hearing his voice again, his little insights and quirky little tidbits on hygiene and food, and whatever else caught his fancy. He imagined waking up in the morning with Light's half of the bed cold, the handcuffs lying abandoned in the bottom of a drawer in his desk.

L ran his fingers up and down Light's wrist as he considered the thought of losing him to this illness. His only equal, dead. He shuddered and thought about when he was older, nearing the end of his life, looking back and remembering Light, still caring for him even though he was eternally 17. He imagined sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of the orphanage in England and telling the kids at Wammy's House all about little Light Yagami and his arrogant tone, his swaggering walk. They would be in awe of his description, of course. But Light Yagami would be fictional to them. They would never have seen his face, heard his voice. They would never know what he looked like when he was upset, or happy, or sleeping. Never.

Light's breath hitched in his sleep.

L held his hand harder. "You can do this…" he said shakily. "You can survive." But it was becoming harder and harder to make himself believe it.

†††

Sachiko and Sayu arrived later that day, both teary eyed and red in the face. They were a complete mess, L realized. But then again, he was as well. He was just better at hiding it. They stood over Light for hours. Just watching.

"You have to remember that this isn't certain," Soichiro offered his sobbing family. "The doctors said that it's possible he'll live."

That hadn't seemed to sway their tears. At some point they left to sleep in the next room over after saying their goodbyes. L couldn't understand why they had left. They were his _family,_ shouldn't they want to be there until the end? Actually, they probably didn't. L certainly didn't want to watch Light die. But he couldn't quite bring himself to leave. His eyes raked over the heart monitor. The beeps had been growing slower for the past few hours, ever since midnight struck. The doctors couldn't do anything else, he'd been told. So he just had to sit and watch as the beeps grew further and far between.

It was around three in the morning when L realized that Light was going to die. He knew it, watching him in his sleep. He hadn't moved for hours. L bowed his head, refusing to look. But somehow his eyes just locked back onto his rival's face. Rival… was Light his rival? He didn't feel like it, not anymore. He supposed that a near-death experience would shake anyone of their ideas. No—he reminded himself, this was not a near-death experience. He was going to die. Now.

L did the only thing he could. He leaned forwards, sealing his lips to Light's forehead, then sat back, hand in hand, to wait out the rest of existence.

†††

Beyond sucked the remnants of jam off his fingers, eyes glued to the screen. Light's hospital room was dark at this point, but it was still light enough for him to see L's affectionate but devastated kiss bestowed upon the dying boy. Truly, this was causing him a delicious amount of pain. Beyond offered the darkness of his room a toothy grin, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Just what are you laughing about?" Ryuk inquired. The shinigami had been rather quiet ever since he'd gotten his hands on the crates of apples—quiet, that is, other than the disgusting crunching sounds that had been emanating from the back of the room for quite some time now. Beyond had begun to wonder if the shinigami even knew what it _meant_ to chew with your mouth closed. "You can see his lifespan, can't you?"

"I can." Beyond's eyes locked on the monitor thoughtfully. "It's a shame, isn't it? I wanted to see what color a god's blood was…"

The shinigami finally ceased chewing just long enough to ask, "You're not upset?"

"Of _course_ I'm upset!" the murderer snapped furiously, his mood swinging from calm to enraged in a mere second. "I'm _furious,_ you imbecile! This ruins everything! All that planning… and for what?" His hands darted out to grip the monitor, the material creaking in protest. He stayed frozen that way for a moment, then seemed to gain control of himself, exhaling deeply and leaning back in his chair once more. The gears of his mind were turning full speed, struggling to deliver unto him a solution to this rather large hitch in his plan. "Ryuk," he said at last. "Just how much can shinigami manipulate a human's lifespan?"

The shinigami cackled, "What, you want me to save Light? Sorry, can't be done. Even if I wanted to, I can't just snap my fingers and bring his lifespan back up. Looks like you're just out of luck on this one!"

"Answer the question," Beyond said softly. "How much control do you have?"

"If you're looking for a loophole, you're not going to find one," Ryuk responded carelessly. "But if you really want to know, then I guess we don't have much control at all. We can shorten humans' lives by killing them, cut their lifespans in half with the eye deal, or lengthen their lifespans at the cost of our own lives. But that last one only works if the person's in a situation where using the Death Note will save them. Face it, there's no way around this." The shinigami popped another apple into his mouth.

"I'm not convinced you're telling me the truth," Beyond growled dangerously. "There must be something. And if any shinigami was going to figure out a loophole, it would be you."

"What, am I that bad?" Ryuk protested. "Come on, cut me some slack here!"

Beyond slammed his fist down on the desk, effectively silencing the shinigami. His eyes darted to the monitor once more. The numbers were going down, and down, and down… "We don't have time for this! If there is a way to save him, then do it! Or would you rather him die? You do understand that if he dies now, you'll be breaking a rule, right? You have to kill him with your Death Note! If you don't, then you'll have broken one of the vital rules! So save him and stop that from happening!"

Ryuk tilted his head to one side. Beyond shuddered at the sight—the shinigami's head was tilted just a bit too far, making it look as if his neck had been broken. "Oh yeah, I hadn't thought of that! Well, I guess I'd better kill him."

" _What_?"

Ryuk produced his notebook and flipped to a half-filled page. "Well, there's no way to save him. Let's see here…"

"You moron!" Beyond hissed. "Stop that at once!"

"It's nothing personal," the shinigami responded. "I'm just looking out for myself here. You said it yourself, I'd be breaking a rule if I didn't kill him."

"That wasn't—" Beyond stopped suddenly, bringing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. _That wasn't supposed to make you want to kill him! Maybe saying that was a bad idea…_ He glanced up subtly at Ryuk, who was seemingly picking out the perfect space to write Light's name. _Fine, then. If he won't stop this willingly, then…_

Ryuk pressed his pen to paper.

… _Then I'll just have to stop him myself._

Beyond lurched upwards suddenly and sprang for Ryuk's notebook.

"Hey!" Ryuk helped, his voice sounding much higher than Beyond had ever heard it before. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He flew upwards, but the shallow roof of the apartment didn't offer much protection from the raging murderer below. "You can't just—!"

Beyond made another attempt for the notebook, not caring how ridiculous he looked as he went after the stunned shinigami.

"Are you trying to fight a god of death?" Ryuk cackled, seemingly over the shock of being suddenly attacked by a human. "Are you _insane_?"

"Give me your notebook!" Beyond spat, reaching for it. "You won't kill him!"

"Geez, give it a rest!" Ryuk held the notebook up out of Beyond's reach. "He's going to die anyways, so what's the point?"

"How do I know that his lifespan being so short isn't a reflection of your desire to kill him?"

The shinigami laughed. "Lifespans don't work that way, kid! They're not fluid, they're concrete! Light's going to die either way, so—hey, let _go_ of me!" The shinigami turned intangible; Beyond's hand flew through where Ryuk had been moments ago. "Come on, get off!" Ryuk dodged Beyond's mindless lunge. And as Beyond hit the ground clumsily, having lost his balance in the midst of his attempt at the notebook, his eyes locked on the monitor once more. He froze. His eyes raked the screen, struggling to confirm what he was seeing.

"Now," Ryuk announced, returning his attention to the notebook. "Now that that's over, let's get this over with."

"Wait."

The shinigami let out an exasperated noise, saying, "Why won't you accept—"

Beyond raised a finger and pointed to the monitor. "It's frozen."

"What? What do you mean it's frozen?" Ryuk momentarily lowered the notebook as he floated over to the monitor. "The monitor's not frozen, it's working fine! See, look! All the equipment's still flashing."

"It's frozen," Beyond repeated dumbly, his eyes wide.

Ryuk leaned in to the monitor once more, seeking out the cause of Beyond's confusion. His eyes narrowed as he squinted at the floating numbers above Light's head. They were nearly about to hit zero, he realized. Was this what Beyond was frozen up over? But then—

"Hmm?" The shinigami looked again just to be sure, but his eyes hadn't deceived him. "Looks like you're right. His lifespan is frozen."

"Is… that supposed to happen?" For the first time a look of uncertainty was flitting across the murderer's face. "Time's still moving, so why isn't his lifespan decreasing?"

Ryuk shrugged. "Hell if I know."

Beyond righted himself and went over to the monitor, seating himself. He flicked the screen, before realizing a heartbeat later that the action would amount to absolutely nothing. "Why is it doing that?" he muttered to himself. As he watched, Light's lifespan floated in the air, stubbornly frozen on one number: sixty seconds. The numbers flickered and moved oddly, deviating from their normal behavior. As he watched, Beyond almost could have described them as being affected by static. The numbers shook one more time, then were still. And then, very slowly…

Sixty-one. Sixty-two. Sixty-three.

Beyond turned on Ryuk immediately. "You said there was no way that could happen! Are you really so useless that you don't even know your own rules?"

But Ryuk wasn't paying attention. His eyes were still locked on Light's lifespan, which was rising steadily. He remained that way for a few more moments—then a grin spread across his face, and he said, "Well, what do you know?"

"What? What is it?" Beyond demanded furiously.

"I only know one shinigami who could pull off something like _that._ And if he's taken an interest in Light enough to break the rules, then there's going to be trouble."

"Who is it?"

Ryuk shrugged. "Oh, you know…"

"I do _not_ know."

"Then sorry, can't tell you. We're not supposed to give away trade secrets, you know?"

Beyond stared, slack-jawed. "But—but you shared your so-called "trade secrets" when you wrote the rules in the notebook!"

"Huh? Did I? Are those trade secrets?" The shinigami floated back over to his crate of apples, picking another one out. The horridly loud chewing began again.

"You… you are a _complete_ airhead!" Beyond spat.

Ryuk didn't respond.

Hissing under his breath, Beyond turned his eyes on Light's lifespan. He leaned in close, his fingertips brushing the screen. The numbers had stopped rising, and were beginning to tick back down again—but slowly, this time. He would survive the night, that was for sure. Beyond's eyes raked the slowly decreasing numbers. "Hmm," he muttered softly. "So that's when you'll die? Interesting…" He reached for his abandoned jam jar and swirled two fingers around in the substance. "Ryuk, I require your assistance. I want to pay our fever patient a little visit." His eyes never left the monitor as he spoke, watching carefully. "Hmm?" he murmured suddenly. "What was that?"

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and for just a brief moment Beyond thought that a shadow had moved, very quickly, and exited through the obviously closed window.

But it was gone so quickly that he couldn't be sure.

†††

A few hours later, when Light still hadn't died, L finally looked at him again. He'd kept his eyes trained on his friend's hand, refusing to lay eyes on his face, not wanting to see the moment of death. He'd felt his friend's fingers cooling slowly, as if he were already dead. They'd grown paler and cooler in a continuous loop, until it just… stopped. Now, L looked back up at Light's face—and what he saw stunned him.

There was _color_ in his cheeks again! Mere hours ago he had been pale as death… but he seemed to be regaining color! Exhaling harshly, L got to his feet and pressed a hand to Light's forehead. The fever was… breaking? His flesh didn't feel as warm as it had. One glance at the monitor confirmed his suspicions—he was still running a temperature, but it had dipped into the lower decimals of 102 and was falling quickly. Another check of the monitor confirmed that his heartbeat was growing stronger once again. Could it be that he was actually beginning to recover?

That was impossible! L shook his head, thinking that perhaps he was dreaming. He had been _certain_ Light's death was imminent. And yet here he was. The teen shifted suddenly, groaning. And then, something impossible happened.

He opened his eyes.

"Mm…" he groaned, eyes rolling about in an effort to figure out where he was. "L…?"

L gasped, hardly daring to believe it. "Light, don't speak! Just lay back, relax!"

"Don' feel good," he slurred.

"I know, I know! Just… sleep! Go back to sleep, Light. Things will be better the next time you wake up." And with a jolt, L realized that there _was_ going to be a next time. It wasn't medically possible, but… he appeared to be slowly beginning to come down from his fever-induced high.

Light seemed to have listened, because his eyes were closed the next moment.

L hardly dared to breathe as he watched the teen sleep. He couldn't make himself believe that Light was okay, that he hadn't died, because it was completely illogical that he hadn't already passed on. He closed his eyes, his whole body shaking.

For the first time in his life, he didn't want to know why something had happened. He just wanted to accept it and be happy.

†††

The next few days were a blur for everyone involved. Sachiko, Soichiro, and Sayu had awoken the next morning in tears, and had walked in to see what they assumed was going to be their dead family member. But they were greeted with large, hopeful owl eyes and a finger jabbed towards the heart monitor. There had been tears all around (if L cried, nobody said anything) and an army of confused doctors, who explained that by all stretches of the imagination, Light should be dead. It simply wasn't possible for him to have lived. But he had, and now here they all were. The IV remained in, he remained under constant watch, but his fever was all but nonexistent. The doctors wanted to keep Light with them for another two days at least, releasing him after he could keep himself awake.

L was fine with that. Now that it looked like Light was going to live, he wanted to return to the case as soon as possible. He worried about such a sentiment seeming somewhat cold, but that was just the way he functioned. However… the doctors' concerns about brain damage hadn't gone away just yet. They took the fact that he'd recognized L as a good sign, saying that damage may be minimal. That day had passed swiftly, especially after the task force had returned and offered their relief that their youngest member was going to come back to them. Matsuda, the idiot, had cried more than Light's own family. And then, the next day had come the nightmare—one blonde model that found out about her boyfriend's condition through Matsuda. L cursed him for that.

Misa Amane had come tearing into the room like a demented bull, her too-high voice screeching about her "precious Light" as she'd thrown herself across him desperately. She'd even accidentally unhooked the IV in her panicked display (or maybe L had just slipped it out as an excuse to have her removed). Either way, it worked, and Misa was dragged kicking and screaming from the room by Watari, complaining about how "that pervert" got to stay with Light, but his own "girlfriend" was kicked out. L sneered at the thought of that dim mind being so fully devoted to Light, the brightest person he knew—well, other than himself. The mere thought of her being in the same _room_ as Light made him sick.

…Which made him realize just how far his feelings for Light Yagami had managed to develop without his knowledge. He had gone from irritating, if somewhat interesting college student to caring, clever friend in a matter of days. And he hadn't recognized it until it was far too late to stop it. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he _wanted_ to stop it.

In any case, it was too late now. All he could do was sit and wait for Light to wake up, and confront his ever growing, terrifying emotions once everything had returned to normal.

†††

The first thing I heard was an incessant beeping. It was unending, irritating, boring into my aching head and ripping it apart from the inside out. For a long while that was all I could think about, that agonizing rhythm the beeping was setting. My world consisted of two things—darkness, and that noise.

The second thing to find me was the pain. It _hurt._ My whole body seemed to have been put through a meat tenderizer, if the aches had anything to say about it. My head was pounding, chest aching, muscles stiff. Some ungodly force had made my throat dry—and thus the third thing, thirst, was brought to my attention. I was incredibly thirsty. I tried to move my fingers. They didn't budge, to my horror. Where the hell was I, and what was going on? Had L finally just decided to lock me up for being Kira? Was that why I was immobile? The beeping increased as panic flooded my senses. That was when sound fully returned to me.

"—ght? Light!"

I managed a small groan.

A relieved sigh met my ears. "Thank goodness…" Cool fingers trailed across my cheek. I shifted uncomfortably. Was that…L? Touching my face? "I was wondering when you would wake up."

What? Had it been that serious? I pried my eyes open determinedly. The sight that awaited me stunned me beyond words. L… his eyes were _red,_ as if he'd been _crying._ The bags under his eyes were larger, his face was gaunt, and what I could see of his body was skinnier than I'd ever seen it. What the hell had happened when I'd been out? And where was I?"

"L," I tried out my voice. It cracked embarrassingly. My throat was dry.

L noiselessly reached for a cup of water and held it to my lips. Too thirsty to care that L was treating me like a child, I gulped down as much as I could. "Where…?" I tried again, relieved to find that my voice was somewhat ready to obey me.

"You're in the hospital," L said, his voice wavering. "What do you remember?"

I thought hard. "Sick," I murmured. "You said… Beyond called."

He nodded. "Yes, well… after that, your illness became very severe. I attempted to keep you at headquarters and treat you myself, but after you collapsed I had no choice but to take you here."

"How long?" I was regaining some strength now. Although I couldn't shake the fog that was settled over my mind.

"You fell ill about seven days ago. You were kept in headquarters for nearly four days, and you've been here for three. You've been unconscious nearly the whole time."

If I had the strength, I would have gasped. I'd been out for seven days?

L lowered his head, and when he next spoke his voice was shaking uncharacteristically. "You… you were really ill, Light. They said that you were probably going to—" He broke off then, and I was stunned at just how weak he sounded. When he regained his composure he met my gaze, slightly hazy. "Excuse me for that—but what I mean to say is that they told us that it wasn't very likely that you would survive."

My senses numbed. They'd thought I was going to die? But… it had only been a fever! My mind raced back to when I'd first fallen ill. Then I remembered snippets—drinking something, a strong wave of nausea, feeling like I was going to burn away—and L pulling me close. No, I hadn't imagined that… his arms tugging me close in an attempt to ease the pain.

"They told us to prepare for the worst, and then suddenly your fever began to decline. It was a miracle… you shouldn't have survived your temperature being that high for so long. But your fever just dropped like someone had flicked a lever." He twisted his fingers into the blankets of my bed. "I mourned you, Light."

"Well," I rasped, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. He stiffened, looking up at me as if I was insane. "I lived. I feel better."

L shook his head. He reached up and grabbed my hand from his shoulder. I expected him to lay the appendage back down beside me, but instead he laid my hand in his lap, stroking over the skin.

 _I must have gotten pretty bad to invoke this kind of response in him,_ I thought. _The L I know would never cry, or show any emotion._

"The doctors will want to see you," he said after a moment. "I haven't told them you've awoken yet." He reluctantly released my hand. "I will see you as soon as I can, Light. Just… don't go back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

And then he was gone, shooting me one last glance. The instant he was out of sight, I leaned back against the bed. My chest tightened as I thought of what this had put L through—and not just him. I was sure that my family and the rest of the task force had been just as stunned. I couldn't imagine what mom and Sayu must have thought, being told that their son, or brother, was going to die. I heard a brief commotion outside. It sounded like the doctors were coming in. Sure enough, the door was thrown open, and a swarm of nurses slipped inside. Immediately I was accosted with questions and tests. Sighing, I tried to answer every question to the best of my ability. Dimly I felt my body urging me to rest again. My eyelids felt like lead, and I was moments from drifting away—but then I heard L telling me, _whatever you do, don't go back to sleep!_ And something about the way he'd said that, looking straight through my eyes, made me stay conscious.

It wasn't long after that that I found myself laying, head cocked to one side to observe L as he crouched in his chair beside me. "Thank you," he said. "For not letting it pull you back under."

I nodded. True, I was exhausted, but L meant more to me in that moment than even sleep. "I feel better now, I really do."

"That's good. They want to release you in a few days if everything goes smoothly and you don't relapse." He shuddered visibly at the thought. "Please, Light, don't relapse."

"Don't worry, I won't." I promised. "Really, I feel much better now. But… how has the task force and my family been doing with this?"

He lowered his gaze. "They are frustrated with me for staying here."

"Staying here?"

"Yes. I stayed the entire time you've been here. I've refused any mention of the case."

"Why?"

He blushed. The detective L _blushed._ "I held your health in higher regard," he responded. "As I was saying, the task force was frustrated with me for remaining here. But they are concerned for you, even now. They stopped by a few times. Matsuda especially seemed to have a hard time with it."

I grinned. The softhearted idiot probably wept he was so distraught.

"As for your family… well, what can I say? How were they supposed to take the news that doctors were predicting your death?"

I winced. "Do they know that I'll be okay?"

"Yes, they were informed that things were looking up the morning after your fever broke. The hospital staff is now refusing to let anyone in to see you, however, with the exception of myself. They will see you when you are released."

A soft smile found my lips. He really had sacrificed a lot to stay here… the case wouldn't have moved anywhere without his help. Frowning, I began to raise a hand to his face, then stopped myself. It wasn't easy though. The bags under his eyes were practically begging to be touched, wiped away as if they were painted on. "Hey, L?"

"Yes, Light?"

"Will you sleep tonight, please?"

He blinked. "That's an odd request, don't you think? Why?"

"Your eyes have bigger bags under them than normal… it doesn't suit you."

That drew a rare smile from him. "I will not leave this room. But if you want me to sleep, then I will do so." The detective uncurled himself from his crouch and settled in the chair. "This will do."

I bit the inside of my cheek nervously. "Ah… L, you don't have to—" How was I going to say this without sounding weird? "You can sleep with—" No! That sounded bad!

L regarded me with amused eyes. "If that is what you wish, then I will sleep beside you. But please… tell me if you feel the beginnings of fever or pain. I will retrieve the hospital staff at once."

I cursed internally at his ability to always know the right words. Inching over, I made space for him on the large bed. The detective slipped beneath the covers beside me. For a moment we stared at each other, eyes locked in an awkward stare, before L murmured,

"Roll over."

I complied, slightly confused until I felt one of his arms wrap around my waist and pull me to his chest. I nearly gasped at the sudden warmth of his body pressed against the length of mine. "L—"

"Relax," he whispered. I felt his lips brush my ear as he spoke. "I won't hurt you, Light."

I held out for a moment longer. Then I finally released all tension from my body, melting back into him, pressing against him like he was my personal heater. And in that one moment, when I should have pushed him away, declared that I still hated him for locking me away and cuffing me to him, I was content to lay in his arms. For I could tell myself I hated him all I wanted. I could fight and kick and tear at the impulses and emotions flooding my sickened body, convince myself that he was the one person in the world that I wanted to destroy.

But for all my determination, I couldn't make myself believe it.

 **Well, that's that. Although lets be honest here, I don't think anyone thought that I was going to kill Light. I played with the rules a little in regards to Light's lifespan, as you read. You may find it unbelievable now, but once you see who the shinigami is, you'll understand. Also, I realize that Light is a little OOC (or a lot) but I've always loved stories that portray a more sweet, innocent Light. Especially when he's without his memories. I'll be back on Thursday, and I hope you enjoyed :)**


	5. Night Whispers

**Welcome back to chapter five! This one required** _ **so much**_ **editing that my brain practically just melted, but I'm still unsatisfied with it. Although, I think the paper cut/bullet wound analogy is one of my favorite things in this whole story. Anyways, just for those of you who are curious, this story will earn its M rating in chapter eight. And after chapter eight, it _really_ earns the rating, so be ready for that. Also, there are some graphic descriptions of gore in this chapter—so be warned!**

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Chapter 5: Night Whispers**

Beyond Birthday stood on the fire escape outside room 207 at General Cross Hospital. It was dark out, making it hard to see much of anything but what was illuminated by the dull glow of the machines attached to the Yagami boy. Grinning, Beyond tried to open the window. Of course, it was locked in a way that it could be opened neither by someone on the outside nor inside. He'd heard the stories about the patient who'd committed suicide by jumping out the window here years ago; that must have been where the extra security came from. No matter. Beyond pulled out his favored knife and slid it underneath the window, popping the glued latch. The window slid open creakily.

Beyond slipped into the room and propped the window open with the blade of his knife. Then he moved further into the room to observe Light Yagami. Beyond grinned, eyes falling upon the detective currently grasping onto the younger man as if he were a lifeline. L was practically restraining the Yagami boy with his body, pinning him to the bed. Arms and legs both pressed into him as hard as he could in his unconscious state. Shaking his head with a knowing smile, Beyond rested his shoulder bag on the nearby table, then moved to sit lightly on the edge of the bed. Light was barely visible beneath the older detective, much to Beyond's irritation.

"Look at you," he murmured, carefully reaching out to run two fingers over the exposed flesh of Light's neck. "I go through all of the trouble of coming here just to find you in bed with another man. How… impolite."

Light shifted slightly in his sleep at the contact, turning his head against L's shoulder.

Beyond leaned over the sleeping pair, gazing intently at the amber-haired teen he'd become so interested in. _Yes,_ Beyond thought, _if there were ever a divine being, then this would be his appearance. The greatest masters of the written word have painted perfection as a man with hair the color of an angel's wing, and eyes made of irradiated topaz. But you, even in this imperfect, memory-less state, have proved them all wrong in this single moment._ "You have no idea, do you?" he murmured, reaching out to tug gently on a lock of the teen's amber hair. It even _felt_ like silk, Beyond reflected. "You have no idea what's going to happen to you, you poor thing…" For as Beyond knew from observing the world's greatest detective during his time at Wammy's House, L's love hurt. No, it _burned._ "He's selfish," Beyond muttered, moving his spindly fingers down to caress that perfect jawline. "He'll say he loves you, but it's not love. There's a fine line between love and obsession, compassion and dependency. He'll play jump rope with that line, just you wait! Back, and forth, back, and forth, back, and forth…"

He trailed off as Light let out a little groan, no doubt disturbed by the noise. The teen shifted, and despite L's death grip, managed to roll at least part-way onto his side, his face now tilted towards Beyond.

Beyond hesitated, eyes raking down that face, the physical embodiment of perfection. No—not perfection, not yet—not until he had his memories. This was not Kira, he reminded himself. This was Light. And beautiful though he was, he wasn't a murderer just yet.

"All in good time," he whispered to the sleeping teen. "I'll save you from L when the time is right, but not before." He backed away from the bed one step at a time. He was just about to turn for the window when he happened to glance back at Light. "Oh," he spoke out, eyes still resting on the teen. "Don't give me that face, I'll be back soon! You see, it just won't be fun if I take you away _now_! Where's the dramatic flair, the angst, the… the _style_?" He took one step closer to the hospital bed, though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to leave before one of them happened to wake up. L had always been a light sleeper; Beyond was surprised he hadn't stirred yet. "Look, I'll make you a deal. You only have to stick around until you make L fall _completely_ in love with you. Then I'll save you. Deal?"

Light, of course, did not respond.

"Why wait, you ask?" Beyond went on, determined to carry on the conversation. "Well, let me explain it this way: what happens when you give yourself a paper cut?"

No answer.

"You don't know? Well, you bleed, of course! Bright, colorful blood! And that blood keeps dripping for a while, stopping when you pick up a tissue and apply a little pressure. And then you stick a band-aid on it. It takes a few days, but eventually the pain fades away, and you forget that you even got that paper cut. You peel the band-aid away and get rid of it. The cut hurt while it lasted, of course, but no one can remember each and every one they've ever received. In fact, I bet you'd be hard pressed to remember even _one_ paper cut you've had." Beyond chuckled softly. "Now, what happens when you get shot? Well, I'll tell you: you bleed, and bleed, and bleed, and you can try to stop it with a cloth and some pressure, but it's not just going to stop bleeding after a few minutes like a paper cut. You have to keep pressure on it for a long, long time if you're going to save yourself—and then you have to get to a phone and call an ambulance, because a gunshot isn't something you can just walk off. Even if the bullet is removed, the wound sewn shut, and the bleeding halted, that bullet wound isn't going to go away after a few days. You can't just stick a band-aid on it and wait it out. You have to change the dressing, clean the wound, have the stitches removed when the time comes. And even then, even if you survive all that, a scar remains. And that scar is never going to heal, no matter what. Because that's what scars do—they _scar!_ " The murderer clapped his hands together softly in glee. "Now, you might want to know—Beyond, what does that have to do with anything? And I'll tell you!"

Beyond continued stepping forward until he was back where he'd started, leaning over Light.

"Right now, you're a paper cut, and L is the person you've hurt. If I take you right now, then he'll heal with almost no problem at all. But if I wait for your little relationship to grow, then…" he leaned closer, whispering in Light's ear. "…Then when I take you away, L is going to _bleed_. And you, Light Yagami, will have turned what could have been a scratch into a bullet through the head." He grinned, leaning back. "Understand?"

Light's only reaction was a slight murmur in response to whatever dream he was currently submersed in.

"Now, I'll see you after your great confession to L!" He whirled around and headed back for the window.

Light murmured again, and Beyond paused.

"Hmm? Well, if you insist…" Beyond turned back and stepped back to Light's bedside. He leaned down slowly. And just as his lips were about to brush those of the sleeping teen's…

The door's hinges squeaked suddenly as someone opened it.

Beyond drew away as if he'd been shocked, jumping as he turned to face whoever was in the doorway.

"Hey!" a voice hissed, too soft to wake the room's sleeping occupants. "Who the hell are you? No one but the dark-haired guy is allowed in this room!"

Beyond's eyes narrowed as the figure stepped into the moonlight. "Oh," he growled, gaze raking up and down the security guard. He must have heard him talking to Light, and decided to come in to see what was wrong.

"Come on, son, you need to leave." The guard moved towards him determinedly, a hand reaching out to grab onto his arm.

Oh no, that human _scum_ was _not_ touching him! Beyond shot a hand out, grabbing the guard's wrist before his hand could make contact.

"Hey, just what're you—"

"Poor, poor security guard," Beyond sighed. "They don't pay you enough for this, do they?"

"What—?"

Beyond reached for his belt and withdrew his second knife.

The guard froze, as if he'd never actually been in a dangerous situation before. His eyes darted back and forth between Beyond and the knife. He sputtered, "Hey, now, just put down the knife, and—"

Beyond sighed, flipping the knife in the air once, twice. This man was truly an idiot—there was a gun hooked to his belt, and yet he cowered before a knife. "Oh dear," he whispered to himself. "I _really_ wish you hadn't opened that door."

The guard opened his mouth, presumably to scream. But by the time his lips were so much as parted by an inch, Beyond's hand was sealed across his mouth, and his knife was at his throat.

†††

When I awoke, the first thing I saw was black. All encompassing, all around me—or at least, all around my eyes. Frowning, I attempted to raise one hand to brush away the darkness, only to find it trapped. I blew, and the dark hair taking up my vision parted just enough for me to realize what—or _who—_ was keeping me pinned.

L, of course, was sprawled out over me. I wasn't sure when he had gone from laying beside me to completely engulfing me, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant. I supposed that seeing how he had reacted to my near-death experience had softened my feelings towards the detective. Perhaps he wasn't as heartless as I'd previously imagined. Shifting, I noticed that L's arms had come up to wrap around my chest, his legs locked on either side of me. His hair was the darkness staining my vision—the top of his head was pressed under my chin in a tight embrace.

It was then that I became aware of what had awoken me.

"Light! Hey, are you paying attention? Light, buddy, come on!"

Matsuda. The lovable idiot was holding a box in his hands, carefully averting his eyes as a blush spread across his face. "Um," he said nervously, "Chief sent me with this… he thought that Ryuzaki might be hungry after so many days not eating…"

I briefly wondered what he was so nervous about when I realized that the position he had found me and L in wasn't exactly innocent. I struggled immediately to free myself, but L wasn't budging, and apparently all those sleepless nights were finally catching up to him, because he didn't show any signs of waking up. "Matsuda," I greeted. "I apologize, but I can't currently move."

"Ah, right. I'll just put this here and…" he backed away.

"No, wait! Please, Matsuda, can you tell me what's been going on at headquarters? What's been happening with Beyond and the third Kira?"

He paused, shifting his weight between legs. "Well, the regular murders are still being committed weekly, but we haven't been able to make anything of them. Without L we don't stand much of a chance."

That's right… I'd already nearly forgotten that L had refused to help with the case after I'd been hospitalized. "I'm sure L can read more into the murders once he's back to normal."

"Yeah," the older detective agreed. His eyes flickered to watch his shoes. "He was really shaken up over this," he muttered. "Like, scary shaken up. When he came out of the elevator carrying you, he was totally terrified. It was kinda strange, you know? Seeing him like that."

"He _carried_ me?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah. How else was he supposed to get you to the ambulance?"

" _Ambulance?"_

"I t-told you," Matsuda stuttered, clearly uncomfortable. "You were bad."

An awkward silence ensued.

My thoughts were in overdrive. The picture of my illness was becoming clearer and clearer—and while on one hand I was thankful to L for taking care of me, I wasn't an idiot. It was beyond clear, even to me, that L had waited too long to give in and bring me to the hospital. Had it been even a few hours later, I had no doubt that I wouldn't have survived.

Matsuda cleared his throat, and I remembered suddenly that he was still there. I said, "You can go if you want, Matsuda. You're clearly uncomfortable with this situation."

He nodded immediately. "Yes, of course! Thank you, Light!" Relief stained his voice as he backed away as swiftly as he could without appearing rude. His footsteps faded as he took off running, trying to get as far away as possible from the odd scene. I didn't even want to think about the rumors that would be flying around in the task force when we returned. More importantly, I didn't want to consider what my father would think of such things. It wouldn't be pretty.

My attention was suddenly drawn to L as he began shifting slightly. His obsidian eyes opened slowly, blinking up at me as he regained consciousness. "Light…" he murmured hazily. "Are you real?"

"Yes. At least, I believe so."

He hummed contentedly. "Good. You're warm." He held me tighter. "I'm glad you're not dead."

"So am I. Though everyone says I came close."

That seemed to wake him up more. He pulled back, his eyes locking momentarily onto mine. Then he frowned. "I would have thought you'd be more agitated, seeing as our current situation is less than dignified."

I supposed that I should have been horrified, maybe pushed him off the bed. But I just shrugged. "I don't know, when you nearly die it puts a lot of things into perspective. For example, waking up to your hair smothering me."

He smiled. Not one of those polite smiles I'd seen, but a real, genuine smile. It made my chest blossom with warmth. "Sorry about that, Light. But to be fair, you were the one who insisted that we share the bed."

"Well, next time I'll make you sleep in the chair. Deal?"

Another smile. Then he frowned suddenly, as if remembering that he was lying in bed with his primary Kira suspect. He pushed himself up and off, standing firmly on the ground. "As pleasant as that was, I should probably speak to the nurses about checking you out of this place. I know that they wanted to keep you for a few more days, but you seem perfectly healthy, your fever is down completely, and judging by the sounds your stomach was making a few moments ago, your appetite has returned in full. Am I correct?"

"Yes, it is." Now that he mentioned it, I _was_ getting hungry. "Oh, by the way, Matsuda brought you some cake. At least, I assume it's cake. The airhead didn't actually say what it was. He misses you being on the force, you know. He didn't actually say it, but you can read that guy like an open book."

L nodded thoughtfully, rising and moving to the table that held the box of cake. "I suppose I've allowed my emotions to control my actions on this case for long enough. It's time to get back to work." He opened the lid to the box and stared inside. Then he snatched a fork off the table and sat back down. "Well… perhaps it can wait until I finish this cake. Would you like some?" He removed two paper plates.

"No, you know how I feel about sweets."

L shrugged, forsaking the plates entirely, and began eating directly out of the box. I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, still pondering my near-death experience. I stretched one hand up without thinking, raising it as high as I could as if I were attempting to touch the ceiling.

"Hey L," I said suddenly, "Who was that kid that came in here?"

He paused. "Kid?"

"Yeah. I thought I saw a kid in here, about two nights ago."

"Two nights?" He looked suddenly troubled, as if that night held some terrible occurrence.

"Yeah. I thought I saw a little kid in here, standing at my bedside. Didn't you see him? You were right there next to me."

"I do not recall such a being. What did this child look like?"

"Oh, I… I don't know," I realized. Despite the fact that I remembered seeing him quite clearly, I couldn't recall any particular detail. "He was short, I guess. He must have been about five, or maybe six."

"It doesn't sound like anyone I saw around the hospital. And besides, if that was two nights ago, then it's probably nothing."

"Why?" I asked. "What happened two nights ago?"

L placed his fork on the table, looking as if he'd tasted something sour. "Two nights ago was the time when I was certain that you were going to die. It was when you were at your sickest, and your heartbeat was the most irregular. If you saw anything during that time, it was most likely a hallucination driven by the fever."

"A hallucination?" I murmured.

"Yes, Light. Nothing more, nothing less."

I frowned deeply, lowering my arm, which had begun to go numb. Strange… though I couldn't remember him specifically, I was certain that I'd seen him. He'd said something, something important. What was it…? I hissed angrily, rubbing my eyes as if they were at fault for not being able to recall the kid's appearance or the words he'd spoken. All I could really remember was that he was young, and that he'd appeared from nowhere. And after he spoke those few words, he just vanished—and then my entire body was hit with a wave of heat that swiftly melted into coolness, and I felt relief for the first time in days. I didn't know why, but I had a strange feeling about that child.

L was still sitting in silence, his cake abandoned. "Please forget about it," he urged. "Nothing good will come of worrying over lingering illusions."

"You're right," I responded thoughtlessly, my mind still on the child.

L got to his feet. "I find that I am no longer hungry. I will go attempt to check you out of this place. Will you be okay here alone?"

I nodded, and the next moment the door was swinging shut, and L was gone.

The moment he was gone I let out a huge sigh, running my hands through my hair. I could hardly believe that he was acting so caring after being so harsh just a few days before. _He feels guilty,_ I reasoned. _He feels guilty and he needs a way to make himself feel better, so he's being nice to me. It's just like him to do something like that._ But despite the logical course my brain was taking, there was still a nagging feeling deep within my chest that told me otherwise.

 _That's completely ridiculous,_ I thought. _He's done nothing that would suggest he feels anything for me other than friendship. He only slept in the same bed as me because I asked him to, and to refuse would have made him feel even guiltier. His mind doesn't work like normal people's—he's completely logical and unemotional._

That wasn't exactly true, however. He had shown more than enough emotion in the past week, and with a chill, I realized that all of it had been reflected upon _me_. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

And if L… _did_ happen feel something for me, then would I really be okay with it? I had to admit, my feelings towards him had softened considerably after his obvious distress over my illness. He'd cared for me, and for that I was thankful. But to have a relationship of any kind with the man would only end poorly. He would solve the Kira case and leave, and I would never see him again. So it was pointless to dwindle on what could have been, and what I may or may not have wanted to happen.

I pushed myself into a sitting position and swung my feet over the side of the bed. The IV was still in the back of my hand, the bag attached to a pole-like mechanism. I swiftly reached up to release the lock on the mechanism's wheels, then got to my feet unsteadily. I shuddered as a wave of dizziness swept over me—it had been many days since I was last on my feet. But after a moment of rest, I managed to stand and make my way towards the bathroom, rolling the mechanism beside me. It had been too long since I'd had a shower, and while I may not have been allowed to take one just yet, I still wanted to wash my face and comb out my hair. I had to pause for a moment at the door as another pang of dizziness settled over me, but a heartbeat later my head stopped spinning and I reached for the door.

The instant my fingers touched the doorknob, I knew something was wrong. I wasn't quite sure how, but as my fingers came into contact with the cool metal, a pang of uneasiness coursed through me. I frowned, shaking my head in an attempt to clear way the strange feeling, slowly turning the doorknob. For just a moment I hesitated—and in that moment, I realized that a metallic scent was lingering around the door. I frowned, unable to identify the scent. I took a deeper breath, growing slightly nearer to the door, but as the scent of copper grew stronger, I was still unable to identify what was producing such a stench. I placed my palm on the door and looked the door up and down.

There was something on the ground, barely visible from the crack between the door and the floor. I knelt slowly, mindful of my weakened state, and eyed the substance leaking from the door. I reached two fingers down to the stuff and dabbed at it gingerly. I immediately raised my hand to the light and studied the substance.

It… it was red. Red and glistening, staining a few inches of the tiled floor of the hospital room before vanishing into the bathroom. My stomach churned uneasily as the metallic scent became stronger, and my mind final registered just what was dripping from under the door.

Blood.

I nearly gagged as I realized what that metallic scent was, my stomach churning as the intrusive scent grew ten times stronger just with the realization of its source. My eyes flitted upwards to stare at the bathroom door, my gut telling me that something terrible was waiting for me beyond the white-painted wood. The cloying scent clung to my skin, my hair, my clothing. I knew then, just as I had known the moment my hand touched the doorknob, that something terrible was behind that door. I got shakily to my feet and pondered whether or not I should open it, and whether or not I should wait for L.

 _I can't wait,_ I thought. _I have to open the door and see what's behind it. The sooner I know, the sooner I can call the police, and the sooner they can start an investigation._

I reached out hesitantly, still-bloody fingers grasping the doorknob once more. I turned it, wincing at the rusty shriek of metal on metal, a sound that had no business being in a hospital. The door opened with a click, and immediately I was hit with another scent—strawberry, like the scent of some sort of jam. It was almost as bad as the blood. I pushed the door inwards without moving my feet, letting the thing swing inwards until I heard a soft thunk as it pressed against the bathroom counter. Then I looked, slowly, into the dim light of the bathroom, and—

My non-bloodied hand flew to my mouth to block the vomit I felt bubbling in the back of my throat. My eyes watered at the force of the stench emanating from the bathroom. I had the sudden realization that I should have waited for L.

The bathroom was a mess—and not in a normal way. I barely knew where to begin to describe the scene before me. The best way to describe it, I thought, would be something along the lines of someone using a meat grinder on a human and flinging the remains around the room.

The ceiling was what first caught my attention. Blood dripped steadily from the panels, the scarlet liquid splattered everywhere like watery paint. The stuff dripped from the ceiling to the walls, leaving red tracks all the way to the floor, where the stuff pooled in sickening puddles. I wanted to look away, but I had frozen in the doorway, eyes glued to the gory sight. The next thing I saw was the sink—someone had wound what I could only assume to be part of the small intestine around the faucet, piling the rest into the sink sloppily to join several other unidentifiable lumps of flesh. The red contrasted horribly against the white marble, and I wondered briefly if they would have to replace the sink due to staining. Almost against my will, my eyes found the shower, the curtain of which was thrown open. It was blood-spattered, just like the rest of the place. But that wasn't the main attraction—whoever did this had removed several of the victim's organs and tied them to curtain rod with fishing line. They looked almost like morbid Christmas ornaments, swinging lightly in the breeze from the open window. I tore my eyes away from the shower, and they fell instinctually upon the floor. And it was there that I saw the victim—or at least, what was left of him.

He had been carefully arranged with his arms above his head, his legs bent, and I knew that this wasn't a mindless murder, that someone had put _thought_ into how they were going to do this. He had been completely flayed open, from the base of the neck to the waist, and he'd been almost entirely emptied of all his organs save for his heart, which rolled loosely in his chest cavity. And there, beside his head, in the only moderately bloodless spot in the entire room, a single word was written.

Light.

It was my name. And beside it lay a bloodstained piece of paper that I didn't even want to get near.

I became convinced for a moment that I was going to throw up. I was so stunned that I barely heard the door open. "Light?" a familiar voice called into the room, footsteps echoing slightly as the person moved towards me. "What's wrong? Why are you up?"

I couldn't respond. L was getting closer, but I knew he couldn't see into the bathroom until he was nearly beside me. I stumbled backwards, and I knew immediately that this time I really _was_ going to be sick, so I turned on heel and barely managed to make it to the nearest trashcan before I threw up.

"Light!" L gasped, horror in his voice. "Are you sick again? Do you feel warm?"

I shook my head and motioned to the bathroom. "Look," I rasped. It was the only word I could manage.

L headed for the bathroom with a frown. When I saw his entire body tense up, I knew that he'd seen it. I heard a slight rustle, and I could only assume that he'd picked up the note resting beside the victim's head. L exited the bathroom after just a few seconds, and was at my side just a few seconds after that. I felt his hand come to rest on my back, and I rasped, "H-how are you not sick?"

"I've been in this business for a long time," he murmured. "And I've dealt with Beyond before."

"B-Beyond?" I echoed shakily. "You're saying that the murderer was him?"

"He has a signature style," L murmured in response. I dared to glance back at him, and was relived to see that he had strategically blocked my view of the bathroom with his own body. "You mustn't think about that room," he urged gently. "We need to get you out of here, and we need to get you out of here _now_." One hand shot out, gently tilting my head to look at him once more. "Listen to me, Light. You are in danger here; I believe you are being targeted. We must leave. Do you think you can stand?"

I forced out a nod, getting to my feet unsteadily. "W-why do you think he's targeting me?"

L smoothly hooked one of my arms over his shoulder, telling me, "Beyond has always left clues in his crime scenes, and they always lead to his next target. And I think that your name written in blood qualifies as a _clue,_ don't you?"

I nodded once more, breathless.

"And… there's more, besides that." He held up the note. "This note more than says it all."

I reached for it, but L pushed my hand away gently.

"No, Light," he said. "I don't want you to read it—you've been through enough today."

"W-what does it say?" I stuttered.

"Beyond has declared, in short, that he knows about the affection we share, and that he will take you away to hurt me."

"Affection?" I echoed. "Is there really—?"

"Now isn't the time for such talk, Light." L's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "He seemed to have a peculiar interest in you when I spoke to him, and now he pulls something like this…" He tugged me faster for the door. He opened it and ushered me into the hallway, making sure to support me the whole way so I wouldn't fall as a result of my shaky legs. "The hospital personnel wanted to do one last check and remove your IV, but there's no time." It was then that I realized that my IV had ben removed. I'd been so stunned that I hadn't noticed the pinch as L withdrew it from the back of my hand. "I'll have Watari call the hospital and set up a quarantine of this area until a team of my investigators can take a look. I'll have to check the security footage as well."

I stared up at him, cursing my weak state. He was so calm, and I was so shaken. I remembered dimly that my lifelong dream was to become a detective, and I wondered, if I'd gone through with it, if I would have ended up like L. Unmoved by the most grizzly of murders.

He seemed to pick up on my train of thought, for he murmured, "No, Light. No, you are not weak for reacting this way. I had much the same response when I first saw a scene such as that. You cannot compare your few years of experience to my lifetime."

Words failed me as L led me into the elevator and pressed the button that would take us to the parking garage. He reached up a hand and ruffled my hair. "It's okay," he assured me, though I could tell he didn't believe a word of it. "We'll figure this out."

I wanted to trust him. I truly did. But leaning against the wall of the elevator, staring up at him, I wasn't sure that I could make myself believe.

†††

Not an hour later, I was back in task force headquarters. The instant I'd been lead into HQ the task force was all over me, demanding to know how I was and if I was feeling better. I'd attempted to answer their questions, but L had quickly deterred them by saying just one thing:

"Light is in danger."

That froze them in their tracks. Soichiro looked especially alarmed, his eyes wide. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded angrily. "If he's in danger, why isn't he back at the hospital?"

"Because the hospital cannot help him with this." He spun my normal chair to face the task force and sat me down in it. "Beyond has targeted Light."

A chorus of gasps sounded. "But why?" Mogi asked. "What's he got against Light?"

L cleared his throat uncomfortably. "There has been a murder. Evidently, Beyond snuck into Light's hospital room last night and butchered one of the security guards. I will spare you the gory details. All you need to know is that Beyond left me a message that makes me believe that he will be attempting to take Light away. He believes that because we have become friends, taking him from me will cause me great pain."

The members of the task force shuddered at the thought of being subjected to such a fate.

"Beyond will do anything to achieve his goal," L went on. "It falls to us to protect Light now, and to catch Beyond before he has a chance to even _attempt_ to take him from us."

"Woah…" Matsuda said. "Well, as long as he's here in HQ Beyond can't get his hands on him, right?"

L snarled. "Not true. The security system is extensive, but there are ways around it. Ways that Beyond will no doubt exploit. He may have already breached the cameras— the cameras!" His eyes went wide.

So that was it! That made sense, I had to admit. If Beyond had seen L taking care of me while I was sick, then it would explain why he believed that we "shared affection," as he'd phrased it. The display hadn't exactly been merely platonic, after all. The thought of him watching as L curled himself around me brought a light blush to my face.

L seemed to share my thought process. "If Beyond has hacked the cameras, then he would have seen me taking care of Light before I took him to the hospital. If that were the case, then he would have drawn the conclusion that we were close, leading him to want to kidnap Light to get to me. But… that doesn't make sense."

"You're right," I said. "If he already thought that we were close, why wouldn't he kidnap me in the hospital? It wouldn't have been hard to knock you over the head so you wouldn't wake up, then drag me away. Why wait, and why leave a message detailing his intentions?"

"I don't know," L admitted. "I just don't know…"

Aizawa asked, "How are we going to protect Light if Beyond could easily hack into the security system? It seems like a lost cause."

"Don't say that!" Soichiro snapped viciously. "We are going to protect my son, and stop this monster! Ryuzaki, what do you propose we do?"

He was silent for a moment, thumb to his lips in concentration. It was obvious, to me at least, that he had no idea what to do.

"I shouldn't go anywhere alone," I said. "It should be a group of three, seeing as Beyond isn't afraid to act upon me when L is there. I think having another member of the team close at all times would make it a lot less likely for Beyond to strike. Secondly, we should have someone monitoring the cameras at all times. Work in shifts if you must, but someone must _always_ be watching, especially at night. Windows should be permanently closed using some sort of powerful adhesive and coded locks, and doors should be left latched. I should avoid going out in public as much as possible." I paused. "Any other suggestions?"

There was a general shake of the head from the team. They seemed surprised—did they think that L was the only one who could come up with a sound strategy?

"Sounds good to me," Mogi said. "But what about sleeping arrangements? I mean, will one of us have to move into your room?"

"No, that won't be necessary," L said bluntly. "Having someone else in the room would be pointless if they are asleep anyways. It would be more logical to have someone on watch the entire night. Though I won't ask you to go through with that particular precaution—Watari watching the cameras in the next room over should suffice."

Briefly I wondered if he didn't want someone else in the room simply because he wanted to smother me again.

"Additionally," he went on, "The security cameras should be checked for signs of being tapped, and a general search should be conducted in case additional cameras have been placed throughout the headquarters. Normally I wouldn't bother, seeing as the cameras are so secure—but this is Beyond, so I wouldn't put anything past him."

"I'll take a look at the cameras," Aizawa said. "Matsuda, you can be the one to follow Light and Ryuzaki."

"Hey, why me?" he protested.

L said shortly, "Seeing as you are the youngest member of the task force aside from Light and myself, you will be the least likely to cause situations that might be deemed awkward. You will be required to move into the room across from ours for safety reasons. You will be monitored by cameras at all times."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I guess… if it means protecting Light… I'll go pack my things."

Satisfied, L turned his head to his monitor, which was displaying a gothic W. "Watari, I need you to watch through the security cameras while I accompany Light to our room. Lock down the building if you see Beyond, or anyone not authorized to be in the building." He looked to me. "Come with me, Light. We will return to our room and make the necessary changes to assure maximum security."

I followed without complaint. We entered the elevator just as Matsuda disappeared around the corner—his room was on ground level. "This is insane," I said after a moment of silence. "I can't believe Beyond chose me of all people."

"This is my fault, I suppose," L murmured. "If I hadn't acted so openly on my emotions, he would never have figured out that we had feelings for each other."

"Figured out?" I echoed. "As in, he was right?"

L fell silent. "Light, after this past week, I have no idea what I feel towards you. All I know is that I don't want you to die. And in order for that to happen, Beyond Birthday _cannot_ take you."

"Well, it would be nice if he didn't get his hands on me. But whatever happens, don't let it get to you, okay? He's only doing this to shake you, and you can't let it work!"

Another brief moment of silence. The elevator doors opened, and we walked out. "If Beyond kidnaps you, I will do what is necessary to retrieve you."

And he left it at that. We moved down the halls without saying another word. It was odd, I thought, how swiftly he had gone from enemy to friend. And I hadn't even been awake for most of it. Though, I did remember flashes. I remembered cool fingers on my forehead, soothing words, and my brief conversations with him. He'd looked agonized during those conversations, as if something was tearing him apart. At the time I'd assumed the case was going poorly. But now I knew that he hadn't had news of the case since I'd fallen ill. Which meant that the pain I'd seen had been directed towards me and my situation.

I didn't know what to do with that information.

L opened the door to his room, ushering me inside. He closed the door gently behind us, saying, "I will implement the fingerprint lock once Matsuda has arrived. Until then, I insist that you lay down. You were just released from the hospital, after all, and they _did_ issue specific instructions that you should be resting for the first day out."

I was more than happy to obey, crashing back against the pillows with a huff. "L," I murmured sleepily. "Handcuffs."

"What?" He was pacing about the room, looking concerned.

"You need to put the handcuffs back on. I'm still… a suspect…" I yawned.

"Light, that is the least of my concerns at the moment." He retrieved the cuffs from the table and moved to sit beside me on the bed. "I still need to move about. I'll cuff you to the bed, if that makes you feel better."

I nodded my approval. L snapped one end of the cuffs to my wrist and the other to the bedpost. I frowned, more than aware of how this would look to Matsuda when he walked in. He'd already caught L practically sleeping on top of me, and this wouldn't help his already growing suspicions. I was too tired to care. My eyelids drooped, but I refused to allow myself to sleep just yet. I wanted to make sure Matsuda got here safely.

I must have dozed off despite my determination not to, for when my eyes opened Matsuda was standing with us in the room. My arm tingled numbly from having the circulation cut off. Sitting up, I alleviated the pressure and began rubbing life back into the deadened arm.

"Welcome back, Light," L said. "I was just discussing the conditions of our arrangement with Matsuda. Care to join in on setting the terms and conditions?"

I rubbed my eyes blearily. "Unchain me from this hunk of wood and I'm more than willing to talk."

L smiled ever so subtly and cuffed me back to him. "We have already moved Matsuda into the next room. It has been determined that he will not be expected to sleep in the same room as us or accompany us into the bathroom or shower. He will, however, wait outside. Other than that, we are still talking it over."

"What else is there to talk about?" I asked. "He just goes everywhere else with us, right?"

"Not exactly." L was chewing on his thumb again. "Will he follow us on late night trips to retrieve cake? Will he go to college with us? He'll hardly be able to pass as a student. And of course, will he accompany us on dates with Misa?"

I blanched. "Good point."

"Now then, shall we continue?"

†††

A few hours later, the conditions had been set. Unfortunately for me, Matsuda would be going _everywhere_ but the bathroom and shower with us. He was even required to go with Misa and me on dates. (I dreaded the moment I'd have to tell her that little detail). Other than that, the door had been locked with a fingerprint scanner that would only recognize L, Matsuda, Watari, and me. The window had been sealed with adhesive, the name of which I hadn't been told, and locked tight. And of course, the most intrusive change had been the addition of the cameras in L's room. Watari would be monitoring them every moment of the day, no matter where we were. Something about this was just… wrong. It felt more than intrusive, being watched every second of the day. As for the cameras around the HQ, they had been deemed perfectly clean and un-hacked. This only made L more persistent in finding out how Beyond had been watching us—for he was completely certain his eyes had been locked on us.

As for Beyond, he had continued with mindless killings, showing no sign of deviating from his pattern. The task force split its attention between Beyond and Yotsuba Corp. Yotsuba's murders, were still taking place in their normal weekly pattern. We had figured out rather swiftly that the third Kira was only interested in helping Yotsuba, which led us all to a simple conclusion—that Kira was a part of Yotsuba Corp. L seemed almost offended at the simplicity of it all, bitterly mumbling about how the new Kira was about as smart as Misa Amane. I had to agree, though I gave the new Kira a bit more credit for at least _attempting_ to hide his intentions. We were getting closer and closer to catching the third Kira, and hopefully revealing how he killed.

And so it came to be that a few days later, I was lying in bed with L, trying to sleep, when he spoke up. "This is useless."

I glanced over at him, surprised to see him shut the lid of his laptop forcefully, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "What is it?" I asked carefully. I'd been sensing his growing irritation over the past few days, but had no way to alleviate it.

"No matter how much effort I apply, I seem to be incapable of finding even a _clue_ pertaining to Beyond's location."

I asked, "You got the forensic analysis back on the blood from the murder of that security guard, right? Was there anything that could lead you to him? And you've examined the security footage from the night he murdered the guard, correct? He didn't give anything away?"

"All the security footage for the hospital the night of the murder was deleted long before I tried to get my hands on it, and not even I can get it back," L growled. "And the forensic analysis didn't tell us anything we couldn't have just looked up on our own." He grasped his hair with both hands and tugged. "I can't find anything, and at this rate, Beyond will win."

"We'll figure it out," I told him. "I'm sure that you're more than capable of beating him."

"I'm not sure that I am," he admitted. "I didn't want to say this to you, but I can't recall a time in which I've been this stuck on a case. I think that I may require some assistance."

"Assistance?" I echoed. "Who on earth is smart enough to give _you_ assistance?"

He paused for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. Then he murmured, "I have successors."

"As in, people who want to become you?"

"When I die, yes. Over the years I have become rather close to three of them, and with their above-average intelligence and impressive detective skills, I believe we can catch Beyond before he has a chance to lay a hand on you or any other member of the task force." He glanced over at me, seemingly watching for my reaction. "And remember Beyond's game—if we can catch him, preferably before he gets to you, then he'll give up Kira's power."

"You really believe that?"

"I… I do not know. He has always been unpredictable. If we catch him, and he realizes that he's lost, then I believe he would give up his power just to spite me." He went on, "But that's beside the point—Light, would you consent to me bringing in outside help?"

I sighed deeply. "Do what you must, L. But if they're anything like you, then I can promise you that the members of the task force are going to go insane by the end of this."

He chuckled. "Oh, they're nothing like me. They're far, far worse."

I groaned at the thought of three more little Ls running around the investigation room. "Great, L, like that makes me feel better…"

He gave me an odd look. Slowly, he pushed his closed laptop across the bed until it was completely out of his way. Then, hesitantly, as if he were debating the intelligence of his decision, he uncurled himself from his crouch and lay down beside me. He curled up on his side, facing me, while I remained on my back, staring upwards. "Light?" he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I noticed… you've stopped calling me Ryuzaki."

"Oh, have I?" I turned just my head to face him. I hadn't noticed. "I'm sorry; I'll stop. I'd almost completely forgot that I was supposed to call you that."

"You… you don't have to."

I blinked, confused. "But what about your whole secret identity thing? Won't that be ruined if I just start calling you L on a regular basis?"

He paused, eyes turned downwards. "I would appreciate it if you would call me by my pseudonym while in the presence of others. But… if you would like to refer to me by my chosen name when we are alone, then I would very much encourage you to do so."

"Oh, then…" I trailed off, noticing how intently he was watching me. He almost seemed to be studying me, waiting for my reaction. "In that case, L, I'd be more than willing to call you by that name."

Warmth filled his gaze. "Thank you, Light."

He looked pleased, and I wondered if this was the first time he'd ever wanted anyone to regularly address him by the name he'd chosen for himself. L must be quite lonely, I realized. To live such a life, a life in which one's only company was that of an old inventor and a computer screen, must have been taxing. Despite the way he insisted upon his disinterest in the company of others, he had become much more relaxed since we'd become friends. Relaxed, that is, until Beyond became determined to bring it all down on our heads. I momentarily wondered what his history was with L. The two of them seemed to know each other, and I suspected it went beyond that one incident in Los Angeles. _He knows L's real name,_ I thought uncomfortably. _How close were they that he managed to discover it? Did L tell him out of friendship, or did Beyond deceive him in some way? And we've determined that in order to use Kira's power, one must have a name_ and _a face. That means that they must have seen each other. Just how well do they know each other?_ My eyes flitted to L, who was still watching me, deep in thought. _And more importantly, what did L do that made Beyond hate him so much? Was it really just L's success at thwarting him in Los Angeles during the Los Angeles BB Murder Case? It must have been something truly terrible for Beyond to go this far. Unless… unless we don't know his true motive at all._ And there it was, the source of the nagging feeling I'd been ignoring for the past few days. I thought something was _off_ about Beyond's self-proclaimed motive. I was certain that there had to be something else, some other reason that he wanted me. It couldn't just be because I had grown close to L, right? Perhaps it was because I was the original Kira suspect, and Beyond thought that I had actually been the murderer. I had yet to voice my concerns to L, for I was almost certain that he shared my train of thought.

I was so absorbed by my thoughts that I hardly noticed myself rolling over until I heard L's surprised exhale. My eyes refocused in front of me, and I nearly jumped clean off the bed as I realized just how close we were. In a single instant the tension in the room grew tenfold. L observed me with a slightly surprised expression, his obsidian eyes wide. It was almost comical the way he looked at me, as if just for a moment, he'd forgotten that I was real. It dawned on me then that I had never thanked him for taking care of me, staying by me when even my family couldn't bear being in my presence. "L…?" I began hesitantly, my chest feeling heavy with the strange tension filling the air.

"Hmm?" His eyes never left mine, even as he inched subtly closer.

"I still haven't thanked you for… you know. Saving my life."

He laughed softly. "I didn't save your life. All I did was alert Watari to your condition, and he called the ambulance. In fact, I might very well have ended your life after waiting so long to take you to the hospital." His eyes flitted away from mine in shame as he continued, "I could have been the cause of your death."

"You still stayed with me," I responded. "Without leaving once. And no matter how close it came, your actions didn't cost me my life. So… thank you. Really."

"It was no trouble," he said. "And for what its worth, I'm glad you're not dead."

This drew a chuckle from me as I responded, "That means quite a bit coming from you."

We fell into a tension-soaked silence then, the still air enfolding us as we observed each other with quiet, watchful eyes. I'd never seen him so close before, and I was surprised to discover that within those obsidian eyes, there resided flecks of lighter gray. The bags under his eyes looked less like paint from this close, and more like dark bruises, though they were greatly reduced from how they'd looked in the hospital. His hair appeared wild and coarse, sticking up in all different directions, and I wondered for a moment if it would feel anything like how it looked. I had almost persuaded myself to reach out and touch it when L suddenly shifted.

Something seemed to change in L. His eyes glinted with purpose as he pushed himself up onto one elbow, leaning just slightly over me. His hair hung barely in front of his face, and his eyebrows, normally hidden beneath his bangs, were scrunched in a serious expression.

"Light." He spoke my name as if it were a sacred word, forming each individual letter with the upmost care. "May I try something?"

"Ah… what, exactly?"

His eyes glowed in the dim light, and he seemed to move in slow motion as he reached out one hand, stroking it along my jawline. In a flash I understood what he wanted, and I couldn't stop my heart from suddenly leaping into my throat.

"L," I choked out. "Are you sure that—?"

"Allow me this," he whispered, pushing my shoulder until I settled onto my back. "Even if it's just once."

And with that, he leaned down and locked his lips to mine. For a moment we simply stayed that way, both frozen, waiting for the other's response to the bold move. Then, slowly, L began to move his lips against mine in an unhurried but frighteningly passionate display. I wanted to pull away—didn't I? Then why was I leaning into the older man, melting against his lips? I felt that I shouldn't want what he was doing, shouldn't want to continue—but my traitorous body wouldn't obey even the simplest command to pull away. I tried to think logically—did I care for L in this way? Could I make it work? But all logical reasoning had been swept away in a tidal wave of in-the-moment exhilaration, and I found myself helpless against it.

Giving in to my body's desires, I raised my hands to his hair at the same instant his curled around my waist. L took the move as acceptance, and pulled ever closer, his tongue darting out to lap at my bottom lip in a plea for entry. My lips parted, and he took the opportunity to plunge into my mouth, exploring the new territory fervently. In my stunned but blissful state I didn't even think to push back—what he was doing had seemingly short-circuited my brain. Even when he pulled away with a gasp, seemingly due to a lack of air, it took a moment to register the events that had just unfolded. The detective stared at me with wide eyes, anticipating my reaction. The emotion that lingered in those dark eyes was one of trepidation, as if he was bracing himself for my rejection.

My mind was running at a thousand miles per hour as I stared back at him. I slowly raised a hand, pressing three fingertips to my tingling lips. "L…"

He blushed, looking uncharacteristically shy. "I apologize, Light. It seems that my intuition as to your feelings was incorrect. Forgive me." He began to reach for his laptop, which still sat on the bed farther down, the light blush darkening.

"L, wait." I reached out and grasped his wrist gently, pulling it back. "I—" Words flitted in the shadows, just out of reach.

"It is okay," L assured me. "If you do not reciprocate the emotion I shared, then I will not be offended."

"No, that's not it! Just… damn it, L! It can't work!"

Confusion replaced L's expression of embarrassment.

"No, I mean…" I trailed off, struggling to put my thoughts in order. "You're _L._ No matter what you say, when you finish this case, you'll leave and I'll never see you again. And when you do leave, I'm just going to be left behind, staring after you and wondering what happened and whether or not you're even still _alive._ "

Now confusion turned to surprise. "That's what you're concerned about? That I'll leave?"

"How would you feel if you were in my position?" I grumbled, looking away sharply. "Feeling anything at all for someone who can never stay…"

Now surprise was turning to some sort of twisted understanding and hope; he leaned back towards me and easily grasped both of my wrists, pushing me back down without so much as a fight.

"L!" I protested somewhat irritably, though I had no desire to fight him.

He stared down intently, murmuring, "Can I take that to mean that if I were to stay, you would be able to care for me in the same way I care for you? You wouldn't feel disgusted; you wouldn't hate me?"

"Disgusted?" I echoed. "Hate?"

"Well, of course…" he continued hesitantly. "I naturally assumed that when you became upset, that you—"

Understanding struck me. "No!" I bit out, surprising myself with the pure emotion in my voice. "No, never!"

"So…" he leaned down until I felt the ends of his hair brush my still-hot cheeks. "In that case, am I correct in assuming that you feel something for me in return?"

I felt my blush darken impossibly. "Ye—I mean, you can't just ask me that! This isn't how you go about asking someone out!"

"Really?" he asked innocently. "I admit I'm rather unversed on the subject."

"Well you're not supposed to _pin someone to a bed!"_ I informed him, and before I knew what was happening I was laughing, the anger having fled completely. I paused then, staring up at the man pinning me down. He looked happier than I'd ever seen him, his eyes sparkling with amusement. And it was in that moment, that moment of observing just how happy he was and feeling the same emotion swelling in my chest, that I knew.

It was too late. Maybe it had been too late from the moment I first saw him.

I must have said something to that effect, for L frowned, asking, "What do you mean it's too late?"

In response I pulled one hand free and twisted my fingers into the collar of his shirt. I allowed myself a moment to simply stare up at him, at the comically surprised expression on his face. And then, before I could talk myself out of it, I tugged him down and kissed him with everything I had. My arms wound around him as I pulled him close, holding onto him as if he were my lifeline—and in that moment, it felt to me that he was. I drew back sharply, before he had a chance to react. "It's too late for me to escape without getting hurt," I murmured, smirking at his stunned expression. "You can say that you're going to stay, but I won't believe you. And when you do leave, be it after this case or the tenth after this one, I'm going to get hurt."

He stared at me with wide eyes. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face. I found myself smiling as well, finding his rare excitement infectious. I decided I wanted to keep that expression on his face as much as I could, no matter what it took. Anything, as long as he looked as incredibly carefree as he did in that moment. L reached out a hand to draw it along the side of my face, almost as if he didn't believe I was real. "I will stay until you tell me to leave," he vowed, though I didn't believe a word of it. He released my wrists in favor of looping his arms around my chest and pressing his cheek against my hair, a position that vaguely reminded me of how he'd acted in the hospital. "I'll stay, and no matter what, I'll save you from Beyond."

I hummed in agreement, refusing to voice my concerns, raising one hand to tangle into the back of his hair comfortingly. And that was the way he stayed, stretched out atop me, until his breath evened out and he fell asleep for the second time in as many days. But even the steady rhythm of his heart failed to lull me into unconsciousness. I remained awake throughout most of the night, eyes wide open and locked on the ceiling.

"I wish you would stay," I murmured after what seemed like forever. L had rolled off me a few hours prior, and was stretched out on his side. One of his arms was throw out over my waist, the other curled up near his face. He was very peaceful when he slept, I reflected. It was so unlike his waking self.

I reached out mindlessly and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. I cared for this man, I knew, more than I should. And when he left it was going to hurt. But until such a time, I resolved, I would stay with him. I would push down all my doubt and forget about the inevitability of his departure. I would forget about the future and focus on the now, allowing, for the first time in my entire life, my emotions to dictate how I acted.

But more than anything, I would not allow L to get hurt in an attempt to save me. If L lost, and if Beyond got to me, then I would not let L put himself in between me and the bullet. I refused to let him die in a fruitless attempt to protect that which could not be protected. He would not save me.

Which meant that I was going to have to save myself.

 **Beyond has revealed his intentions (sans the part about giving Light his memories back) and Light has resolved not to let L get hurt… and next chapter, the successors will enter the fray. Anyways, I wasn't happy with this chapter, but thanks for reading through it anyways. Leave a review if you enjoyed, and I'll see you on Saturday with another chapter.**


	6. A Dangerous Path

**Have you ever stared at a picture you drew for so long that you found literally every single flaw, but were unable to find a way to fix any of them? Yeah… that's pretty much what I did to this chapter. But all things considered, it turned out a hell of a lot better than it was before I edited it.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter, and be sure to drop me a review if you do!**

 **Chapter 6: A Dangerous Path**

The next morning I awoke warm and comfortable, more relaxed than I'd been in a very, very long time. The reason for this feeling of contentment was the scrawny, black-haired detective curled up on top of me, his body acting as my personal heater. L looked adorable when he slept—his thumb was still at his lips, making him look like a toddler, his hair was mussed, and his clothing was twisted about haphazardly. Remembering the events of the previous night, a smile was brought to my lips, despite my realization that no matter how good this was, it wouldn't last. But despite that, it felt… liberating, to say the least. I could barely believe that rivalry had turned into care and devotion so easily, so _simply._ It was like someone had flipped a switch, and it had drawn back the floodgates that I'd built up so carefully. And if that were true for me, I couldn't imagine what L would be feeling once he awoke. L, someone who had hidden his feelings from the world ever since he was a boy. It would probably wreck him. I drew him closer mindlessly, lost in thought.

L shifted at the movement with a groan. His eyes fluttered open, obsidian orbs melting into happiness when they were met with the sight of my face so close to his. "Ah," he muttered, leaning back. "I appear to have been using you as a pillow. Am I to take it, then, that the events of last night were not a figment of my imagination? A dream?"

"No, L." Doubt rose in my chest for a split-second, reminding me of the hell that was to come, but I choked it back. _No,_ I thought. _I won't think about that. For now, I will pretend that everything is okay._ "It was all real."

For a heartbeat he looked terror-stricken, and I was almost worried that he was going to take everything back—but my fears were alleviated when he suddenly smiled. "Good," he announced. "I'm glad it was."

I gently extracted myself from the tangle of limbs and stood, pulling him up with me. "Come on," I said. "We need to get ready. Matsuda will be waiting."

†††

When we got to the investigation room, Matsuda in tow, the task force was humming with nervous energy. Upon seeing us, Soichiro immediately rushed over, hair disheveled and a stained coffee mug in one hand.

"Ryuzaki!" he snapped. "What's this I hear about you calling in outside help on this case without consulting us? You should have at least run it by us before deciding to make the call!"

Both of us blanched. "Ah… what?" L said flatly, at a loss for words.

"Don't play dumb!" Aizawa shot from his seat. "Watari came in here this morning and used your computer to contact some people from England. He told them that you had asked for their assistance, and for them to fly out here immediately."

L stared blankly. "I assure you, I did not ask Watari to make that call." He seated himself at his computer and reached for the intercom. "Watari," he demanded.

"Yes, Ryuzaki?"

"Why did you call for my successors?"

A pause. "Because you said you were going to call them first thing this morning, and I wished to save you the trouble."

"But how did you—" His expression dropped.

"You do remember, Ryuzaki, that we placed cameras in your room that I was instructed to monitor around the clock?"

My heart skipped a beat as my eyes met L's. We shared a brief look of horror before returning to our emotionless masks, knowing we couldn't let the team know something was up.

"Actually, I had… forgotten," L muttered. "I don't suppose you were watching when—?"

"I was watching at every moment, as instructed," Watari said evenly. "Oh, and Ryuzaki, there is something that I must discuss with both you and Light as soon as possible." There it was. His voice had dropped slightly, portraying subtle anger. He knew.

"Of… of course," L responded. His fingers pried at the seat of his chair restlessly. I knew how he felt; at the moment I was forcing myself not to begin tugging at my hair in frustration. Such a simple oversight that neither of us should have made. It was infuriating.

"Getting back to the topic of conversation," Watari went on, "Your successors have informed me that they will be here by tonight. They took a private jet as not to be delayed."

"Right, of course they did," L seethed. "Those kids…" He dropped off, seemingly lost in thought. "I apologize for all of this, Watari. If you wait in my office, I will gladly come to speak with you after I have explained the situation to the task force."

"Of course, Ryuzaki. I will be waiting." The intercom clicked off, and L leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh. His hands rose to tug at the hair shadowing his eyes.

"Ryuzaki," Soichiro prompted. "Please, explain yourself.

"Very well. I shall." He spun his chair to face them. "I will give you the shortened version, as not to reveal too much. This so called "outside help" comes from three of my closest friends, calling themselves Near, Mello, and Matt—the successors. They are incredibly intelligent, and working together, they are at my level, if not beyond. It is for that reason that I made the decision to call them for help with the Kira case. They are almost familiar with his tactics as myself, so they will be a great asset to us." He broke off just long enough to bring his thumb to his lips, an action that made him look somewhat like a toddler. "I realize that I have been hasty in contacting them; it has been a mere four days since Beyond's threat. However, with Light's life at stake, I would rather end this sooner than later—thus the inclusion of my successors."

"And you weren't going to consult us first?" Mogi demanded.

"I was going to pretend to consult you and call them anyways," L murmured.

Aizawa rolled his eyes. "Great. So you think they can actually help us?"

"I have no doubt." The detective plucked a sweet from the always-present bowl on his desk and popped it into his mouth, humming contentedly. "I do apologize for this hasty decision, Chief Yagami. But I feel it is necessary to ensure that this case is closed before Beyond gets to Light."

That shut them up. Of course it did, L knew exactly how to twist his words so they'd strike at the hearts of those beneath him. I almost rolled my eyes at his use of my father's emotions to string him along.

"Right," Soichiro said at last. "If that is what it takes, I will allow anything so long as it will keep my son safe."

L got to his feet. I followed. "Now," he said. "In case you weren't paying attention, Watari has requested our presence in my office. I will be taking my leave now, and so shall Light. I will see you as soon as is convenient, or when my successors arrive."

"Hey, wait!" Matsuda protested. "Aren't you bringing me?"

"No," L shot back at him. "This is a private matter between Watari, Light, and myself. Please do not interfere." He murmured to me, "Watari watching the cameras will provide enough security for such a short trip."

"Well… okay!" Matsuda called out as we entered the elevator. The doors slid shut, and the instant I was sure we couldn't be heard I immediately broke out into a sly grin.

"That was clever, using me as an excuse to allow your friends to come here."

He lowered his gaze. "While it is true that I was manipulating your father's emotions, it is also true that I wish for this case to be closed so that no further harm will come to you. I've already stated that I would be… upset, to say the least, if Beyond managed to obtain you. I've already been forced to watch you on your deathbed once, I don't wish to see it again."

"You won't," I assured him, once again fighting against a tidal wave of doubt. "I have faith in you to protect me from your crazy stalker."

"You _shouldn't,"_ he snapped, startling me. Then his gaze softened, realizing how harsh he'd sounded. "Ah… Light, I'm sorry." He reached out and clasped a hand to my shoulder. The handcuff chain brushed against my chest as he moved. "But please, be on your guard. Just because I'm here doesn't mean that Beyond can't get to you. Remember, he could easily have taken you away from me in the hospital, and we don't know why he didn't. He could even be watching right now." He pointed to the camera glaring down at us. I had no doubt Watari was watching.

"I know that my safety isn't guaranteed," I said carefully, knowing full well that what I said had great weight in this situation. "But you can't deny that I'm in the safest place I can be. If Beyond manages to capture me, it won't be your fault."

"You say that," he murmured, "But I can't seem to believe you." He moved his other hand to my other shoulder, moving me back against the elevator wall gently. I stared up into those flecked obsidian eyes, waiting for—something. "Why do I feel like you're hiding something?" he asked softly.

 _Like what?_ I thought. _My complete and utter disbelief that you'll keep your promise to stay here after the case ends? Or maybe my vow to keep you from getting hurt over this, no matter what it takes._ "Anything you want to know, just ask," I lied. And even then I could tell, looking up at him, that he wasn't entirely convinced.

"I'm concerned," he said slowly, "that you'll lie."

"Lie?" I echoed. "You think that I'd lie to you?"

"If you thought your lie would do more good than harm, then yes, I think you would lie. After all, at the beginning of this case you lied to me plenty."

I was reminded, for the first time in over a week, that L believed I was the original Kira. A flash of irritation passed through me, and I immediately pushed L's hands from my shoulders. "Don't," I hissed, "bring that up."

An expression of hurt flickered across L's features. The expression only served to heighten my irritation. What the hell did L think was going to happen? Did he think the fact that I felt something for him made it okay to keep accusing me of being a mass murderer? Or perhaps, did he think that we would confess our feelings and run into the sunset, hair flapping in the breeze? This was real life, not some ridiculous shoujo manga. And in real life, you didn't get to accuse the person you were romantically interested in of being Kira without repercussions.

L opened his mouth to respond, hopefully with an apology, but before he could, the elevator dinged. The doors slid open. L slowly stepped away from me, a deep frown spread across his face. "We'll discuss this later," he decided, turning and exiting the elevator without another word.

I followed silently.

†††

When L entered his office, the first thing he sensed was frustration. And a lot of it. Although, he figured, some of that frustration may have been emanating from _himself_. L wasn't an idiot. He knew when someone was lying to him, or hiding something. And Light was definitely doing both. L had seen the conflict in his eyes, had seen the distrust when he'd promised not to leave. The teen was troubled over his predicament, troubled over the overwhelming events of the past few weeks. And most of all, L figured, Light was troubled over what was happening between them. _Does he really care for me as he claims to?_ L wondered. _It's true that he allowed me to kiss him, and kissed me back, but he seems less than pleased with our situation._ The argument in the elevator had only swirled up more doubt in the detective's mind. _Perhaps… perhaps he thinks he's made a mistake in allowing this to happen. Perhaps he thinks it was too much too quickly. After all, my feelings for him grew over a mere week, but he had but a few days to realize and accept my sentiment. I may have pushed him too hard, expected him to return a feeling he didn't share. Or maybe, just maybe, he doesn't yet understand how he feels._ L moved further into the room, traversing the short hallway that led into Watari's office. _If that's the case,_ he went on, _then I will help him understand. I will ease this conflict and gain his trust._

L winced, thinking to himself that it would take quite a grand gesture to earn Light's trust, and more immediately, his forgiveness. The teen hadn't exactly looked thrilled when he'd locked him up in the adjacent room so he couldn't overhear what was sure to be a heated conversation between genius and father figure. He'd called for Matsuda at the last second, sending him into the room with Light just in case something happened. In addition, he'd called ahead to Watari just to make sure he had an eye on the camera in Light's temporary room at all times. He was taking no chances, after all. Even in the few minutes L was speaking with his caretaker, Beyond could strike—and Watari, the stubborn man that he was, wanted to speak to them one at a time, which meant that L wouldn't be able to stay with Light constantly.

Watari looked up as L finally passed from the hallway to the room. "L," he greeted, seated at his desk.

"Watari," he responded. "I suppose you wanted to talk to me about what transpired last night between Light and myself."

He tilted his chin down disapprovingly. "Yes, L, you're right. Would you like to tell me exactly what it was that I saw?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "You saw a kiss. More than one, actually."

"And you initiated the first."

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because…" L drifted off. Why had he done it? There was no good answer. Light had just looked so appealing, and he'd been so glad that he wasn't dead, and there was no fighting the swell of affection in his chest, and— "Because I wanted to," he said, cutting off his babbling stream of consciousness.

One eyebrow was raised. "And do you have feelings for the younger Yagami?"

"Yes." This time the answer was definite. Because if there was one thing he was sure of now, it was that there was _something_ there between Light and him. Something wrong, perhaps, but something that he wasn't willing to give up. "I feel for him in ways I have never felt for anyone before."

"L…" he shook his head sadly. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you know he's Kira."

"Yes, I know," he responded slowly. "But everything about this case has led me to believe that Kira's power and consciousness leaps between people. If that were the case, then it was Kira we were dealing with in the beginning, but it is Light currently."

"And what is to happen if Kira jumps back to Light? What will you do if you lose the boy you know to a murderer?"

L bit his lip thoughtfully. He had considered this, of course. "Then I will prove him guilty and turn him in."

"Are you sure you will be able to do that? After growing attached, would you be able to condemn him to death?"

"Of course I would. He would be a murderer."

Watari's eyes glinted angrily. "But it wouldn't matter to you, would it? Yes, he would be possessed by Kira, but he would still be _Light_ to you _._ I hope you realize that by being with him you are leaving him wide open to possession."

"I am aware of the risks. If Kira believes that I will not kill Light, no matter what, then he will do everything in his power to possess him once again. However, I am not going to let that happen."

"You don't have any control over it, and you know it! You have to end this, now!"

"I am sorry, Watari," L responded evenly. "But I cannot end it now. This means too much to me. Please, try to understand. Never have I met someone so invigorating, intelligent, _caring!_ He is the one person that I have ever been interested in, and now I find out that he shares my sentiment, or at least, is beginning to! I can't just _leave it alone._ "

The old inventor sighed, leaning back in defeat. "I can't change your mind, then? You'll stay with him no matter what?"

"I will."

"And… you realize that not only are you leaving him open to Kira, but to Beyond as well? You realize that by caring for that boy, you are dooming him?"

"I have considered everything, and I have concluded that my affections are no good for his health. However, I seem to have no say in the matter, so I will do everything in my power to protect him."

He shook his head. "That is the same thing you once said about Beyond."

L's head shot up, his eyes narrowed in anger. "I cared for Beyond as a close friend, and nothing more! And I _dropped_ such sentiments when he decided to go on a murdering spree in Los Angeles!"

"Beyond killed three people in Los Angeles," Watari responded evenly. "Light has killed hundreds."

" _Kira_ has killed hundreds."

"No, L. You cannot pretend that Light and Kira are two different people, for they are not. The actions of one translate to the actions of the other." His voice softened considerably. "I understand what you feel at this moment—but you have already let it affect you too much. You have been irresponsible, and I fear that you have grown increasingly negligent of your duties as L. I fear for the future. I don't want this little tirade to turn into what happened last time."

"It will not turn into last time," L assured him. "This is entirely different."

Watari let out a deep sigh, taking a step back. "Very well. But be warned—if you fail, and if you revert back to the way you were after Beyond left Wammy's House, then I will not hesitate to relieve you of your title as L. I created that name, and I can just as easily transfer it to one of your successors."

L didn't believe it for a moment. But still, he responded, "Okay. If such a time comes when I am unable to perform as L, relieve me of duty."

There was a long moment of silence in which two pairs of eyes, one obsidian, one brown, stared each other down. Watari was the one to break it. The old inventor looked even older than usual as he finally said, "And there is really nothing I can do?"

"Nothing. I am sorry."

"In that case, I wish you luck, L. And I pray that this doesn't end the way it did in Los Angeles, nor the way it did so long ago, on the morning Beyond fled Wammy's House."

†††

I slipped into Watari's office only to be met by somebody slamming me into the wall. I cried out as the air was forced from my lungs, barely regaining my composure before the person flung me to the ground. For just a moment I was convinced that Beyond was here, that he'd found me—but then I got a good look at the person, and my eyes went wide.

"Watari!" I choked, recognizing him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Putting you in your place," he responded simply, all traces of violence suddenly gone. "Forgive me for the brutality I have displayed, but it was necessary." He cleared his throat. "You see, Light, I tried to convince L to leave you well enough alone. But he is dead set on staying by your side, for whatever reason, and so I will step back and allow it to happen. But this is your one and only warning, Light— _Kira_. If you break him, he won't be the only one being shattered. The only difference is that there will be someone there to glue L back together." Suddenly the anger had returned, and I was being pushed against the wall threateningly. "I promise you, if I am the one who gets my hands on you after you shatter him, you won't be getting put back together. I will scatter you to the wind so that no one will ever find even a single _molecule_ of you, Light Yagami." He shook me roughly. "Do we understand each other?"

I struggled, stunned at the amount of strength concealed within his frail-looking form. "Yes…" I managed to choke out. And immediately the pressure was gone, and the innocent butler had returned.

"Good." His gaze softened, and suddenly there was something like pity in his gaze. I marveled at his ability to go from furious to calm at the drop of a hat. "You would be good for him, you know," he told me. "Good if you never regained your power, if you'd never had it in the first place. But we both know that's not going to happen. You'll regain that cursed power, and you'll have a choice to make. I just hope you choose correctly."

I wanted to say that if I Kira's power ever fell into my hands, I would never use it. But I was still struggling for breath, so all I managed was a short nod.

"L has been through much, you understand. It would be quite bad if the one person he cares for turned out to be a mass murderer. It would be too much like last time."

"Last time?" I echoed. _Was he in love with someone?_

Watari started, as if he'd realized what he said was wrong. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have spoken so freely."

"No, please…" I pleaded. "Did L love someone? Someone before all _this_?"

The old inventor let out a long sigh. "I cannot say what L felt back in his younger days. If you wish to know, then you should ask him yourself."

My throat constricted at the thought of speaking to L again. I felt painfully conflicted—I knew that I'd hurt him when I brushed him off in the elevator, the one thing I swore not to do, but I was still upset. He'd frustrated me, offended me with his accusatory words, and I felt as if I needed to clear my head before I could think about it. If I attempted to speak to him now, the conversation would probably end badly.

Watari, seeming to understand my dreary train of thought, spoke again. "He'll tell you, you know. If you really want to know, then I think he'd tell you nearly anything." He raised two fingers to the bridge of his nose, pressing lightly in what appeared to be an attempt to ward off headache. "Falling for you has seemingly robbed him of his reasoning skills. I haven't seen him this way since he was young. Even though his… _feelings_ for you developed so quickly, and are in no way complete, I can tell from experience that he really does care. Far more than he should."

That knowledge formed a painful lump in my throat. "Then…" I responded, pausing to compose myself. "Then I will do what I can to make sure he doesn't get hurt when this whole thing ends."

"I fear it's too late for that," Watari murmured in a low tone. "Now, I believe you should return to L. He will no doubt be worried." The inventor reached for what I assumed was an intercom control panel, pressing one of the buttons and announcing, "You can come in now, L."

The door opened, and L emerged from the short hallway. "Ah, Watari," he greeted, his eyes flitting back and forth between him and me. "I see that Light is still alive. Should I take that to mean that you find him at least a somewhat acceptable companion?"

"Somewhat," he responded, back to his cool, composed self. "I advise you caution."

"Noted." He took my arm, snapping the cuffs back on and beginning to make his way to the door. I noticed how quick he was to draw his hand away from mine, and I wondered with a start if I had really upset him. "Now, Light, we will return to the investigation room. My successors will be arriving around one in the morning, according to their current flight path and speed, and so in the meantime, we will work. It is still early, after all.

I nodded silently and followed after L, fearful of the damage that I may have just caused, and hoping I would be able to fix it.

†††

My first impression of Near, Mello, and Matt was something along the lines of, _there's no way_ these _guys are geniuses._ The three successors stood near L's desk, completely ignoring the eyes of the task force in favor of staring at L. They certainly didn't look like geniuses—they couldn't be more than sixteen!

The first ranked successor was a short, odd-looking male that wore a white set of pajamas and no shoes. His skin was even paler than L's, his eyes an ashy grey that still managed to look crystalline. Even his hair was white, adding to his overall sense of purity. At the moment he was fiddling with a few finger puppets, all of which appeared to be modeled after his friends and L. As I watched, he shoved them all in his pockets and pulled out a blank puppet, focusing on stitching caramel brown hair to its head. Only when he pulled out a pen and began to draw a handcuff around its wrist did I realize that it was supposed to be _me._

The second ranked successor had girly, long, blonde hair. His eyes were narrowed, though I could just make out a strip of chocolate brown. His clothing was made almost entirely of leather, from his black shoes to skin-tight sleeveless shirt. I had the vague thought that no straight male could possibly be wearing what appeared to be skin-tight leather pants. But the way he was leaning into the third male had already pretty much shattered any thought I had of him being straight anyways. He eyed everyone on the task force like a lion eyes its prey as he bit off a hunk of the chocolate bar he was holding, chewing it violently. I noted the assortment of chains and spikes that made up the bracelets he wore up one arm. He didn't seem like someone I wanted to get involved with.

The last male, the one being so heavily leaned on, was the only one that didn't seem interested in the situation. I couldn't make out his eye color due to the orange goggles that he wore. His hair was a light, almost colorless brown, and there was a cigarette clenched between his teeth. It was unlit. His clothing was completely covered in stripes, as if he couldn't stand the thought of anything else. Over his striped long sleeved shirt he wore a white vest that looked like something you would only wear in winter. His eyes weren't focused on any of us—instead he was glaring with great concentration at the handheld video game in his hand. His thumbs mashed over the buttons with great speed, telling me that he was no doubt very good at what he was doing. He had to have been the youngest of the pair, probably only fifteen, while the others looked sixteen or close to it.

"So," The blonde said, mouth still partway full. "Are you guys gonna introduce yourself, or what?"

I could tell Soichiro was bristling with anger at being addressed so informally. But he held it back, no doubt reminding himself that he was speaking to a genius. "I am Soichiro Yagami," he said shortly.

"Kanzo Mogi."

"Shuichi Aizawa."

"Touta Matsuda!"

"Light Yagami."

The white-haired boy raised a brow at me curiously, attaching the brown eyes to his finger puppet of me. "You are the Kira suspect."

I gritted my teeth. "I prefer to be called by my name, but yes. I am the suspect."

He eyed me curiously. I noted that there was no anger or distrust behind his grey eyes. Only innocent wonder and curiosity. "I see," he said lightly. "Yes, I can see you being Kira. You certainly have the charismatic charm going for you." He pulled out a scrap of red fabric and began to manipulate it into a dress shirt.

I didn't respond to that, too surprised to do anything but stare quizzically.

The boy with the puppets paused. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves. Forgive us if we don't use our real names, you can understand why we wouldn't want them anywhere but our own heads. Everyone at Wammy's House goes by an alias anyways." He lowered his finger puppet just long enough to proclaim, "I am Near. The first ranked."

"Mello," the blonde spat arrogantly. "The second ranked who _should_ be first."

Near shot him a hard glance as the boy with brown hair said, "Just call me Matt. Third ranked."

L rolled his eyes at the glares Near and Mello were exchanging. "Behave yourselves, children." He turned to the team. "I realize that they don't look like much, but they're some of the brightest minds of their generation. Much like Light, actually."

Just like that, three pairs of eyes were locked on me. I shifted uncomfortably. "You make it sound much grander than it actually is," I said in an attempt to lift the attention away from me.

The corner of L's lips twitched, and I knew he was fighting a smile. "Don't be modest. It isn't like you."

I blushed in a sort of embarrassed anger, and immediately hated myself for allowing it. The physical reaction instantly had Near tilting his head to one side curiously. Mello snorted, exasperated.

L continued, "Did Watari fill you in one what's happening here?"

Near nodded immediately. "He said you wanted our help with stopping Beyond, who has acquired the powers of Kira. He did not ask for our assistance in catching Kira, but I believe we will be offering it anyways."

"Yeah," Mello chimed in. "You act all tough, L, but the three of us know that you're completely stumped on this one. I mean, look at you! You've chained a second-rate detective to your arm! What is he, your pet?"

I snarled, ready to lash out, but L's hand against my chest stopped me. I realized too late that it must have made me look like a tamed dog—that is, if Mello's not-so-subtle snicker had anything to say about it. "Light is just as skilled as I am," L shot angrily. "Do not insult him by calling him my _pet._ "

Mello laughed, snapping off another bite of chocolate. "Ooh, defensive, are we?"

L glared. I'd never seen him show so much negative emotion in such a short amount of time. "Task force," he shot over his shoulder. "It is now almost two in the morning. Now that my successors have arrived safely, you may leave. We will continue working in the morning."

"Shouldn't we be a part of this conversation?" Soichiro protested. "We're all working on this case together!"

L shook his head. "We will discuss nothing that you do not already know, and if you stay then you will be incapable of working tomorrow. Do you want to be a hindrance to the team?"

Soichiro's face twisted into a sour expression, and I knew he wasn't pleased. But still, he ground out, "No… you're right."

"Yes, I am." L motioned to the door rudely. "Now, please depart at once. I must discuss the case with my successors."

The members of the task force were gone within the next few minutes, the last of which being my father, who shot me a wistful look. I knew that my family missed me, and couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse. Sayu's birthday was in a few days, and I was beginning to wonder if L would even let me see her to wish her a happy birthday.

"Now," L said, leading us to the sitting area. "Let us discuss this case without the presence of the task force. We all sat, L and I on one sofa, Matt and Mello on the one across from us (nearly in each other's laps) and Near on the floor, leaning against a chair. I noticed that he had used a small piece of ribbon to connect my puppet's wrist to L's. Now he was halfway through creating a tiny pair of glasses for what appeared to be the mini Soichiro.

"What about _him?_ " Mello shot, jabbing a thumb in my direction.

"Believe it or not, I'm intelligent enough to be of some help to you," I snapped angrily. "It's my head Beyond's after at the moment, after all."

The successors froze.

"What?" Mello demanded sharply, eyes wide. "He's after _you?_ "

L shot me a stern look. "Allow me to explain. Before we knew that Beyond was back, Light fell extremely ill. I believed I could take care of him, and continued to do so for several days before eventually being forced to take him to a hospital. At the time, unbeknownst to us, Beyond was watching. He saw me taking care of Light out of necessity and took it for a sort of romance. He now believes that I have feelings for Light." I was impressed by his complete lack of emotion. I would never have guessed he was hiding anything—namely the fact that Beyond was right.

Mello cackled. Oh, I didn't like him… not at all. "How ridiculous!" he crowed. "You and the Kira suspect? Priceless!"

L shot him an annoyed look. "Because of this belief, he now wants to capture Light in order to cause me pain. He sent me a message by murdering a security guard in Light's hospital room, leaving a note detailing his intentions. He had the perfect opportunity to kidnap Light, and he didn't take it. I want to know why. In addition, we know that he has somehow been watching us, but the cameras haven't been hacked into and there are no wire taps anywhere that we've found. Because of this we have placed Light under constant surveillance, and he is not permitted to leave the building. However, you all know Beyond's true nature. If he really wants to get to Light, then we'll be hard pressed to stop him. This is why I called you here—to take him down before he has the chance to get to Light."

"So you just want to protect your suspect?" Near asked curiously. "You don't seem to have any regard for Beyond's victims or wrongdoings, or any desire to stop him for that purpose. It's very unlike you."

"No, that's not it," L insisted. "It is true that my main motivation calling you here was to avoid Light's capture. Had this not arisen, I would never have asked you for help. However, I still feel for Beyond's victims. I still wish to stop the killings. I merely think that saving Light is of higher priority."

Matt put down his video game. Sometime in the last few minutes his unlit cigarette had vanished. "So he had the perfect opportunity to strike, and he just left? Curious… I wonder why that is…"

Near poked at a loose string on mini-Soichiro's head. "You said that Beyond wants to take Light to cause you pain, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, he thought your relationship was one-sided, yes? That Light didn't care for you in return?"

"Yes."

"Well then, that would make sense, wouldn't it? That he's waiting to see if Light returns the sentiment he thought he saw. If Light feels the same way, and he tells you, then that would make his abduction and death that much more agonizing."

L's eyes widened. Of course… that was it! "You're right," he whispered. "That's it."

A jolt of panic ran through me. We both knew that we'd confessed our shared sentiment to each other the previous night—and even though whatever we had was less than concrete, less than stable, Beyond wouldn't care. A confession was a confession. That meant that I was wide open for abduction. "L…" I said nervously.

"I know," he murmured, hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for mine, but was resisting. He shook his head, looking exceedingly troubled. "What do you suggest we do to up the security on Light?" His fingers were digging further and further into the flesh of his legs—a trail of red was beginning to carve its way down his pale flesh. I reached out and pulled his hands away gently, ignoring the odd looks I was getting from the successors.

"There's not much else you _can_ do," Near said thoughtfully. "You're already doing everything you can. The only other option would be to lock him away entirely."

"You could move him," Matt pointed out. His eyes were locked on the screen of his game, the reflection of which shone brightly off his goggles. "Beyond knows you're here. So why don't you move Light away from here?"

Mello snorted, "No good. Beyond has always had an aptitude for tracking down his victims. It would be more trouble than it's worth, and it would take away time you could be spending trying to track him down."

Near picked up another blank puppet and held it up in front of his eyes, twirling it this way and that experimentally, as if trying to find the best angle to attack it from. "What I don't understand is why Beyond made his intentions so obvious. He's always been cryptic and guarded with the identities of his next victims. So why do this now? Why come right out and announce what he wants? It is distinctly unlike Beyond."

"The guy's a psychopath," Mello pointed out. "Who knows what's going on in that head of his?"

I felt L shift beside me. I glanced over at him subtly, and realized how nervous he was. It was as if he were waiting for Beyond to burst into the room at that exact moment. "L," I murmured, nudging him gently. He jumped as if he'd been struck, head whipping up to stare at me with wide, conflicted eyes.

"L?" Mello echoed, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's with you? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Do I really? I apologize." He was still fidgeting. "I feel quite nervous."

"It's logical that you would feel such a way," Near agreed evenly. "However, it is most unlike you to show your nervousness." He finally put down his finger puppets, turning his full attention to the restless detective. "When we arrived I noticed that you seemed quite different from the last time we spoke. I thought that perhaps you were putting on an act in front of the task force. But now they are gone, and you continue to act in this strange way. Is it because of the Kira suspect? Is the act for him?"

I felt L tense, and fearing conflict, I broke in. "Even if it were an act, pointing it out in front of the _Kira suspect_ wouldn't do L much good, would it?"

Near blinked, surprised, as if he'd just noticed I were there. "No, I suppose that was quite foolish of me. Forgive me, L. However, that doesn't change the fact that you have changed greatly. I wish to know what has triggered this change."

L's eyes flitted to the ground. "There has been no change. I am just the same as I was before I left England to take on the Kira case."

"Bullshit," Mello grumbled. "It's like night and day."

L clenched his fists, seemingly steeling himself against the successors. "Have I changed so much?"

Mello responded, "We've known you for our entire lives. And we _do_ know you, better than anyone else." He shot me a meaningful glance. "And yeah, you've pulled off quite a transformation in the past several months."

"I… I suppose I have." He smiled, but it was a sad smile. "But if you wish to seek out someone to blame for this change, then I can assure you that there is no such person."

That was a lie. If L had changed, and I knew that he had, then it was because of me. Because of whatever had possessed him last night, whatever had possessed him to develop feelings for me. I kept my eyes firmly upon my knees, but I knew that should I glance up at L, he would be shaking. I thought, perhaps, that I knew what was happening. _He's been so careful to lock away his emotions his whole life,_ I thought. _But when he saw me fall ill, he showed just a little bit of compassion—and that compassion cracked his emotionless mask, even just by a little. If he'd stopped right there, it would have been fine. It would have mended. But he refused to stop, and he kept showing that damning compassion, and that crack just kept growing, and growing. Even then, if may have been fixable. But when he thought that I was going to die, his sadness formed another hairline fracture in that already damaged mask. Fear formed another. And when I survived, elation formed yet another. All that emotion kept pushing its way through the cracks, widening them, branching them out across the mask likes spider webs. They widened and spread, widened and spread, until they grew too large to contain the most dangerous emotion of all—affection. And once that emotion escaped, the metaphorical Hope at the bottom of Pandora's Box, it was too late to mend the cracks. That affection surged through his mask and shattered it completely. And with that precious mask shattered and abandoned, L no longer has anything with which to protect himself. That is what the successors mean when they speak of his change. For he has changed, yes. He shows more emotion now than ever. And what's worse—L hasn't realized it. He hasn't realized what's happened, where his control has gone. How long before he understands? How long before he can put the mask back together?_ I clenched my teeth, watching L cautiously. He could say that it was no one's fault all he wanted, but I knew. I knew that I was the one who had broken his mask. My previous anger melted away slightly at the thought.

L was still talking. "I suppose that the stress is most likely to blame for my change… perhaps that and my… my fear." He spoke the word as if it were a terrible curse.

"I'm not surprised you're afraid," Near said.

"Yeah," Mello agreed. "Especially after… you know…"

I looked to L. What was Mello talking about?

"Don't bring that up!" Matt hissed, picking his head up from his game.

L had stopped shaking. In fact, he had stopped moving altogether; unless you were very close you wouldn't have been able to see his chest moving.

A light blush spread across Mello's cheeks as he said, "Ah, right. Sorry."

"L?" I asked slowly. "What does he mean?"

L didn't respond. He was determinedly staring straight ahead, not meeting my gaze.

"Just forget about it," Matt advised.

I waited for L to say something, but he remained completely detached.

Near was quick to change the subject. "We've gotten off topic. I believe we were discussing how to better protect Light, correct?"

"We already said that's he's as protected as he's going to get," Mello said dismissively. "Nothing else to talk about there. Personally I think it's useless, but if you really want us to try, we can attempt to track Beyond down."

"Hey, no trying involved!" Matt broke in. "We'll find him, L. Easy."

"I don't know about that," L murmured, finally speaking. "You all know that I have… dealt with Beyond before. If he wishes for investigators to know something, then he leaves a clue at the scene of his crime. But if he does not wish for investigators to know something, then they are hard pressed in gaining such knowledge." He carefully aimed his eyes to the successors, avoiding my gaze. "I fear that Beyond does not want us to know where he is, and that he will have left no clues."

"There's _always_ a clue," Mello assured him. "And with three more geniuses on the case, we'll find it. Come on, no worries, L! We'll save your little pet."

L glared. "I believe I instructed you not to call him that."

Mello grumbled, "Fine, fine. Whatever."

There were a few moments of silence, in which I fiercely attempted to meet L's gaze. He seemed determined to avoid me. Finally, L spoke. "Forgive me for showing fear. I just—" he broke off momentarily. "I just wish very much for this to end differently than last time."

There was that phrase again. Last time. Just what was he talking about?

Even Mello seemed to soften as L spoke. "We'll do what we can," he assured him. "We'll do everything in our power to keep it from coming to that."

"Agreed." Near rose from the ground and moved to L, patting him on the head, a gesture that looked very strange when coming from such a short, young boy. "It won't be like last time. Because this time you will have our aid."

Matt agreed, "Yeah. We'll get this guy, no questions asked."

L bowed his head to them in gratitude. "You have my thanks." His voice shook slightly.

Near backed away slowly. "Now, it is late, and I believe that we should all rest. Even you. L, would you care to show us to our rooms?"

"Yes, that would be best… it is time that Light and I return to our room as well." He gestured for me to rise, still not meeting my gaze.

Near frowned, stooping to scoop up his abandoned finger puppets. "Fascinating. You share a room because of the handcuffs. Do you also share a bed? Is this one of the reasons that Light was suspected to be a romantic interest for you?"

"Yes," L responded softly. "We share a bed."

"And a shower?"

"Yes."

Mello laughed, throwing his head back. "Honestly, L, with a situation like that, did you expect that Beyond _wouldn't_ think you had feelings for Light? You're practically living like a married couple!"

"It had not crossed my mind what our relationship would look like from the outside," L murmured in response. "I have never cared what anyone thought of me until now, when Light's life depends on it."

"Well, either way, it's too late to change Beyond's mind," Matt broke in, yawning. His thumbs were back on his video game again. "We might as well just ride this out." He paused. "Hey, are we all in separate rooms?"

"Of course. The three rooms are beside ours."

"Hmm." Matt looked slightly annoyed at that, and I knew instantly that he would be in Mello's room the instant we couldn't see him. The thought made me smile, and I wondered briefly what it was like to be in a relationship without knowing that your partner was most likely going to leave some day—or alternatively, that you might be killed and leave _him_.

We managed to settle the three successors into their rooms before the next hour had passed. L assigned Near the room to the right of us, and Mello the one to the right. He'd attempted to get Matt to go into the room beside Mello's, but he'd refused to set foot in the place, instead opting to crash on Mello's bed (luckily, it was a king). L and I then retired to our room in silence, standing together a few feet from the door and just staring.

"Well?" I asked finally. "I think we have a few things we should talk about."

L nodded, eyes cast downwards, and opened the door.

†††

Mello tossed his suitcase into the closet, not bothering to unpack. He tossed the wrapper of the chocolate bar he'd finished into the trash before turning to locate Matt. The teen was lying on the bed, one leg crossed over the other as he held his video game over his eyes. His goggles had slipped down to rest on his chest as he focused, honey-brown eyes glittering with excitement.

"Mello," he called when he noticed the older boy reach for the door to the hall. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

He shrugged. "I need to take a walk. Back in a few minutes. And get into some pajamas, would ya? At least take off the boots!"

Matt snickered, tossing his hair away from his eyes. "You're lucky I took off the goggles! Or did you just want to see more of my heart-wrenchingly attractive body?"

"In your dreams, kid!" Mello shot back, though his tone was playful.

"You'd better be back soon if you want to have any fun!" Matt called as the door shut behind him.

"Yeah, yeah!" Mello found himself in the hall. He glanced around, then headed to the next door over. He still wanted to ask L about Beyond—the more info he got, the sooner he could start developing a theory. Right now, his best theory was that Light was a douche that was unworthy of L's attention. A stuck up, arrogant bastard with a silver tongue. That was the only reason he'd lasted this long with L—he must have the ability to weave words like a tapestry. As he reached for the door handle, he paused—L's voice was spilling faintly from beneath the door, punctuated by questions and responses from another, more muffled voice, who Mello assumed must be Light. He paused for a moment—should he, or should he not? _It's rude,_ he reasoned. _I shouldn't._ He leaned his head in towards the door and listened hard. _Oh well, too late now._

†††

"You wanted to talk." L seated himself on the side of the bed, legs pulled up in his signature crouch.

I sat beside him heavily, letting out a large sigh. "Yeah, I think we should." L still refused to look at me. I reached out slowly, hesitantly, and clasped one hand to his jawline. I pushed aside my anger, telling myself that in this moment, whatever was wrong with L was more important. "L," I urged. "Look at me."

"I cannot."

"And just why is that?"

"If I do so, I fear that I may be unable to stop myself from telling you everything."

I immediately removed my hand, placing it instead on his knee. "Then tell me everything, and then you will be able to look at me again."

"Tell you… everything?" His hands twisted in his lap nervously. "I—"

"If you can't tell me everything, then just tell me the important things," I offered. "If you're serious about whatever this is, then you'll have to tell me eventually anyways. And besides, if you claim to care so much for me, then it only seems right that I know as much as the successors know… don't you think?"

My overly gentle tone seemed to work—he gave a small nod.

"Now then—tell me about Beyond."

"What do you wish to know?"

"Tell me… tell me what happened last time."

"Ah… that."

For just a moment I feared that he would refuse. But then he sighed, deeply, and accepted my words with a dip of his head. "Very well then. I will tell you everything that I can recall." There was another brief silence in which I thought that he might have been biting his tongue. Then, slowly, he began to speak once more.

"When I was five years old, my parents were killed in a fire."

Nothing compared to the pang of anguish that shot through me upon hearing those words. I tightened my grip on his thigh in what I hoped was a comforting manner, encouraging him to continue.

"Having no next of kin, I ended up in an orphanage in the US. I drifted from place to place for what felt like years. Potential foster parents claimed me too strange, too intelligent for their tastes. They wanted a child that would be silent and obey, and I was not that child. I wanted to invent, to think, to observe. I began to check out novels from the local library and teach myself about the world. It was there, in a small town called Manteca in California, that I discovered mystery novels. I read all of them, far and wide, but it wasn't long before I was able to solve every case before the end of the book. I became bored with books, bored with theory. So I decided to move my knowledge into practice. I used to show up at police scenes and use my age to get the officers to tell me things. They thought I was a harmless child; they had no idea that I was the one sending in tips and solving cases based on the information they gave me. For many months I was a sort of masked avenger, much as Kira believes himself to be. I took down countless criminals of high and low caliber, and found myself wanting more. So I did something foolish." Once again he paused. One hand darted up to his chest, clutching there as if he were enduring a phantom pain.

"I… I thought that I could do more than just observe and send in tips. I thought that if I made myself known, if I turned in a criminal myself, that I would gain enough attention to pull myself out of the shadows of the orphanage. And so the next case that arose, I, a six year old child, vowed to catch the criminal myself. Perhaps it would have worked, too. But I overestimated myself and underestimated my target. I waited weeks for the next case to appear. And then it did. Someone just outside of that small town was caught up in human trafficking, and the police were trying to figure out who. I found out who it was, and I went after him alone."

My stomach clenched. I feared where this was going.

"It didn't end the way you're thinking, I assure you. When I snuck into the establishment, it was after hours. The only person there was the man in charge of the whole operation, and he was locking away the last of his victims. I'd managed to get a knife from the kitchen—I planned to threaten him and force him to turn himself in." He smiled ruefully. "I was naïve. For all my intelligence, I hadn't figured out that the man would have a gun. When I found him he was in the back room, just about to lock away a male child the same age as me. The child had strikingly blonde hair and blue eyes, and was far shorter than myself. I saw the man locking the child up, and I thought, _now's my chance._ And so I snuck up on him. I thought that I would be able to surprise him—but he heard me coming. The man whirled around and grabbed me by the throat. I was so surprised that I dropped the knife, and it skittered over to the child the man had been about to lock up. The child looked at that knife with wide eyes, but he wasn't afraid. He almost seemed…eager. As if life had handed him a golden opportunity in the blade of that knife.

"The man was going to kill me—I knew it. He said something, but his words have long since left the reaches of my memory. He was holding my neck, and it was getting harder and harder to draw breath. But then, just as I thought that it would end, the man went limp and fell to the ground. Behind him stood the child, a bloody knife in his hands. He'd killed that man to save me." L shook his head bitterly. "If I'd known what would become of that child, I would have fought him for the knife and killed him."

"Is that when Watari found you?" I asked gently, urging him past the painful memory.

"Yes. The police found the child and I at the establishment minutes later. It turns out, they hadn't needed my help at all—they were planning a raid that night after lockup. They arrested the child and me for the murder of the man, and a few weeks later, Watari arrived. He never told me how he heard of our existence, but he claimed to be building a special school for geniuses, and we were first two children he wanted to recruit, along with one other who would be arriving around the same time. There wasn't much of a choice for the two of us, facing the consequences of our crime. So we went with him. Imagine our surprise when we ended up in England of all places, living in a mansion. It was there that we were introduced to the third recruit—a boy that Watari named A. He decided to call the other child B, and he gave me the name L. Together, we worked to become detectives and better the world through our efforts. The three of us became good friends over the following months. I became especially close to A. He was a gentle, quiet soul, but he had a sharp wit and a sharper tongue when provoked. We might have been friends… but I am sorely lacking in the knowledge of telling whether someone is my friend or not. For a few, precious months, we were happy. But… things were quick to change.

"As time went on, B became discontent. He was jealous of A, jealous of my friendship with him. He began to lash out—in small amounts at first, and only with his words. And when that failed to serve his purpose of gaining my attention, he began to change his appearance. First it was the eyes—he always had yellowish red eyes, and he hated them immensely. So he bought obsidian contacts, the same color as my eyes. Then he began to slouch like I did, talk like I did, eat like I did. And finally, he sheared off his blonde hair and donned a wig. All the while, he continued to assault A with his words. And steadily, A became more and more tense, more and more stressed. He confided in me, telling me that he felt that there was too much pressure, and that he was going to crack. And I, being young and naïve, brushed it off. I told him that he would be okay, that things would get better. He tried to tell me that B was growing volatile and dangerous, but I didn't listen. I couldn't see B as dangerous, even after seeing him murder someone before my very eyes. I couldn't see him as anything but the boy who had saved my life.

"I don't know when it was, but B began to hurt A with more than his words. A would show up to our meeting place with strange bruises. Whenever I asked, he was slow to tell me, and he always ended up making an excuse. He fell, bumped into a door, he stumbled into a desk. I should have known then, what was going to happen. I should have seen the signs. But I was blind. I thought that A and B would get over it, that they would be friends like they'd been during that first month at the special school. Needless to say, they did not. One day A came to me, shaking, and told me everything. He told me what Beyond had been doing, what he had been saying, the threats he had been making. He begged me for my protection, and I swore to him that no matter what, I would stop anything from happening to him. But I was negligent in my duties. I didn't really believe that Beyond would hurt him. And then it happened. Three days after that fateful promise, A was found dead in his study, his throat slit. On the wall, a message was written in blood: A does not equal B. It was deemed suicide by investigators, suicide due to A's ever growing stress, but I knew better. I'd seen that kind of knife technique before, on the man that B had killed to save me. I knew it was him, and he knew that I knew. He never told me. He never said a word about it, except to offer his condolences that someone close to me had passed, but I knew what he had done. And even then, even after he murdered someone close to me, I couldn't see him as a murderer. And how could I? Without A, he was the only one left that I could talk to, that I could confide in. I told B that I would protect him. I told him that if he stopped hurting people, I would never tell anyone what he had done. But that wasn't enough for him.

"B kept trying to approach me, kept trying to become what A had been to me. But while I wanted desperately to protect him and keep him at the orphanage, I could not become as close to him as I had been to A. He was too different, too harsh for me to befriend in quite the same way. B stayed for only a few months more. Then he became enraged, demanding to know why I refused to accept him as a friend. When I had no good answer, he drew his knife, the same knife that he'd used to kill A. He pinned me down there, in that so rarely traversed section of the forested yard, and he c-cut…"

Here he stuttered uneasily, one hand flying up to his shoulder.

"He cut you?" I finished gently.

L nodded silently. "T-there… on the back of my shoulder." He stared at the ground nervously, as if waiting for me to push him away in horror. But I simply nodded for him to continue. And after a long, uncertain moment, he did.

"B ran away after he hurt me. Now I was the only child left of the original three. Watari never found out about B's actions—I bandaged my own wounds and made sure he never knew. Watari decided that the initial group of geniuses, the control group, had been ineffective. He abolished the one-letter naming code and allowed the next wave of children to choose their own names, believing that A's suicide had been due to his name—a name that meant he had to be the best, that he had to be _first._ Similarly, he believed that B had left because of _his_ name—a name that forever marked him as second best, as a backup. And, of course, the most drastic change took place—Watari began to teach the children of the orphanage to hide their true feelings. In this way, no friendships were to be developed like A's and mine. No one would hate each other like A and B. No one would commit suicide, for they would lack the emotion necessary to go through with such an act. And so I built up my mask, and forgot about B. Or, I tried to forget. The next time I saw him was in Los Angeles, seventeen years later. He murdered three people, and attempted to commit suicide. He wanted to create the one case that not even I could solve, presumably as punishment for not accepting him after A's murder. He ended up badly burned and in the hospital, having failed to claim his own life. I visited him there, just to tell him that I knew what he had done. But in response he just laughed, and told me that he had done no such thing. It was there that I learned his real name—Beyond Birthday—and it was also there that I believed I had seen the last of him, for he was shipped off to jail. But… he must have escaped and wiped all record of himself from the system, for Kira did not manage to kill him."

L finally paused, clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly. "It would have been easier if Kira would have killed him," he finished slowly. "It would have been better if he would have perished before he had a chance to do this. This case… what he's doing… it reminds me too much of A. I fear that if he gets his hands on you, you will meet the same fate." And then, finally, he looked up at me—and his eyes were shimmering with some strange emotion, and I felt my heart melting.

"Oh, L," I murmured, pulling him in for a fierce hug. "That's… horrible. That's truly, truly horrible." I placed one palm gently over his left shoulder, the shoulder Beyond had cut. "Can I…?"

"No one has ever seen it before," he responded, voice muffled in my shirt. "But if anyone were to lay eyes upon it, I would want it to be you."

I felt a tidal wave of sympathy for the man as I pulled back slowly, staring once more into those flecked obsidian eyes. I reached both hands to the hem of his shirt. He watched me, looking defeated, as if by telling me the story he had bared the deepest workings of his soul, and he was now numb because of it. There was no resistance as I slid his shirt upwards, exposing inch after inch of pale skin. He raised his arms for just a moment to help me, and the instant the garment was off I placed it beside me on the bed.

"You'll be disgusted by it," L warned in a soft tone.

"I've seen worse than a scar," I reassured him. "Now, turn around." I reached out with gentle hands, pushing his shoulders to turn him to the side. I pulled myself completely up onto the bed as he turned, his back now to me.

There was silence for several seconds. "Let me guess," L murmured when I said nothing. "You're disgusted."

I didn't respond. Instead, I reached out and placed my fingers on the slightly raised ridges that lined a large section of his back and the back of his left shoulder. I recognized this font, this style. "BB," I read, tracing each individual letter with the tips of my fingers. The letters stretched from the top of his shoulder all the way to mid-back, the letters long and narrow. "He carved his name into your back…"

"I suppose he meant to show ownership," L affirmed. "He wanted to tell whoever I chose to share myself with that I was his, no matter what."

"L…" I murmured. I continued to trace the letters over and over, again and again. L shivered slightly beneath my cool fingers, clearly uncertain as to my intentions.

"Light?" he asked nervously.

My fingers halted. I leaned in. And before I could question myself, I placed a feather-light kiss directly in the center of the sprawling scar. I felt L tense immediately, could practically see the surprise on his face, which was still angled away from me. But when he didn't move to stop me, I kissed him again, just as softly.

"Light…" he sighed, the doubt gone from his voice, replaced with relief.

"I already told you," I reminded him, brushing my lips against his shoulder as I spoke. "Nothing about you disgusts me. A scar isn't going to change that. And no matter what you think, this isn't like last time. Do you know why?"

L shook his head, seemingly dazed.

"It's different because you have friends this time— _friends,_ not just A. You have your successors, and you have me. And your friends are going to watch your back, are going to watch _each other's_ backs. That way, _this—"_ I touched his scar with one fingertip. "—Will never happen again."

"Will it be enough?" he asked in a muffled voice. "Can we stop it from repeating itself? I don't want it to be you that ends up scarred, Light."

"L," I responded softly, "no matter what, we will end this. No matter how long it takes, this time things will not end like they did the first time. It will be enough. We _will_ stop the cycle from repeating."

He tugged himself out of my grasp, turning back around to face me. For a long while he just stared, just watched me, as if he were memorizing every detail of my face. Then he gave me a small smile, and he spoke. "Light… thank you."

I acknowledged his words with a nod, smiling lightly as he pulled away and stared me in the eyes. He raised one hand and slid it along my jawline, just as he had the previous night. "Are you…" he began. "Are you really okay with this?"

I swallowed hard, and spoke the truth. "Yes, L. I swear to you that I am."

"You hardly seemed pleased," he went on, "and I feared that you were merely consenting because I forced you into it. And then you pushed me away in the elevator, and I thought—well, I'm sure you can surmise what I thought."

"You didn't force me into anything," I assured him calmly. "And I was upset with you in the elevator because you accused me of being Kira again."

"I didn't—"

"You didn't say it in those words exactly, but don't even _try_ to tell me that it's not what you meant," I chastised.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" L asked, his voice low. "You know that I believe you were the original Kira. But it doesn't change the amount to which I care for you."

I wanted very much for L to apologize, to tell me that there was no way I was a mass murderer—because I _wasn't._ I wasn't Kira. But I knew how selfish that sounded, so I responded, "No. Don't apologize. Just… let's put my past identity—Kira or not—out of our minds. No matter who I may have been, it's not who I am now. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Funny… I said much the same thing to Watari. But that's not all, is it? There's more to it." He leaned in closer. "You doubt me." It wasn't a question.

"How can I not? You are _L._ L needs to travel the world, solve cases, protect the innocent. You can't do that if I stay here, weighing you down. I can't tie you here, not forever. You'll have to leave eventually."

"Then I will have to prove myself to you. I will have to prove that I will stay. I will have to prove that you can trust me."

"Yes," I said softly. His face was still inches from mine, his hands raised to press along my jawline. And as I remained motionless, L closed the remaining few inches. I closed my eyes, chin tilted upwards, expecting him to kiss me as he had the previous night. But instead I felt his lips on the crown of my head, and I frowned in confusion. "L?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he moved his lips to the bridge of my nose, to my cheeks, to my temples, to my eyelids. Each kiss was feather-light, mimicking the way I'd kissed his scars. It was soft, gentle. A far cry from the way he'd attacked me the night before. He spoke to me in each one of those kisses. Not with his words, but with the way his fingers grasped my face without pressure, in the way he kept his lips firmly closed. _I won't leave you,_ he told me silently. _I care for you. I will never let anything happen to you._ He repeated the promises with every brush of his lips to my skin, with every motion, until he had covered my face with the ghosts of his words. Then, for just a moment he paused—and I opened my eyes to find him watching me with an unreadable expression, still grasping my face, his lips still inches from mine. "Light…"

He spoke my name with the same reverence he'd shown the night before. But unlike the night before, when his lips finally settled upon mine, he was gentle. He kissed me with a soft press of his lips to mine, never daring to part his lips for so much as a second. It was as if he were making up for the ferocity of the previous night with his gentleness, treating me like an irreplaceable relic, a priceless glasswork. He repeated the action. Then he did it again.

"L," I murmured against his lips, and he pulled back for just a moment. I realized with a start that I'd been lowered onto my back without noticing. He drew circles on my chest with his fingers, and I noticed abruptly that he had never put his shirt back on. "Your shirt," I attempted, sure I was beet red.

L frowned as if he didn't know what I was talking about. "It is normal for males to sleep shirtless, yes?"

"Ah, yes, but—" L cut me off with another kiss. "Why?" I managed. "Why are you being so… gentle?"

"I have to start to gain your trust somewhere," he responded.

His answer made a barely-known emotion swell in my chest. An emotion that I was beginning to recognize as affection. _Perhaps…_ I thought as L grasped me tighter, kissed me harder, flicked his tongue teasingly against mine. _Perhaps my mask has begun to crack as well._

†††

Mello drew his ear back from the door, his expression one of shock. L… had really told all that to Light? The Kira suspect? The one that was supposedly trying to kill him? And… and they sounded close. Very close.

"Hey!"

Mello whirled around, startled. Matt stood in the doorway to their room, wearing only his boxers, glaring. "Aren't you coming?" he demanded. "You've been there forever!"

"Impatient!" Mello scolded, moving away from the door, but not after one last listen to make sure the conversation was over. "Come on, Matt, you can't wait ten minutes?"

"Nope!"

Mello rolled his eyes. "You know, it serves you right for all the times you've left me waiting because you're playing your games! The next time you beg me to finish a level, I might just say no!"

"Awww, Mello, but you can't save in a dungeon!" The teen protested. And you KNOW how I hate replaying what I've already done!"

Mello rolled his eyes. He could pretend to be angry all he wanted, one look at Matt's soft brown eyes had him melting in his arms. "Fine, fine! I'm coming, just keep your shorts on!"

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you sure you want me to do that? We could have _so_ much more fun if I took them off!"

Mello, having reached the younger boy, punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You're an idiot."

" _You're_ the one about to climb into bed wearing all leather!"

"Then you'll just have to take it all off!" Mello snapped, feigning irritation.

Matt's eyes lit up, fingers going to the blonde's shirt as he drug him into their room and slammed the door behind them.

†††

The next morning was calm between L and me, as if laying everything out on the table had made us much more relaxed around each other. L had no more secrets—or at least, no more secrets that he needed to tell me. We rose at our usual, early hour (that is, I rose at the usual hour. L had been up the whole night, which was relatively usual), and showered briefly, changing into clean clothing and preparing for the coming day.

The only words we exchanged that morning were in argument over my slightly swollen lips—mainly over my irritation that the detective hadn't known when to stop the previous night so that I wouldn't show the signs of our actions the following morning. We'd ended up awake for much of the night, despite L's promise to let me get at least seven hours of sleep. Most of the night was punctuated with kisses, alternating between chaste and heated, mindless and meaningful, until the kisses grew fewer and far between, and all that remained were light, unperceivably soft brushes of lips on skin. It was all that had occurred—though in every kiss, heated or not, I could sense the restraint L was putting forth as to not jump me right then and there. In every touch I felt the heat of his skin, and knew what state of mind he was in.

L, of course, seemed completely unconcerned with my poor, abused lips. Much to my irritation, his only response to my complaints was to draw me in for a lingering kiss, which didn't do anything to help my pathetic state. But I couldn't keep up the act of being irritated, and it was mere minutes after the conversation that I was whirling L around and getting him back for the previous night, reducing him to a blushing, shivering mess. I'd pulled away from him with a devious grin, whispering, "Now _your_ lips are just as bad as mine."

I'd headed for the door without looking back, chuckling to myself when the chain reached the end of its length, and L was suddenly pulled off balance.

Everything had seemed fine. Everything was quiet, and after hearing L bare his soul to me the previous night, I found myself leaning away from some of my doubt. _Perhaps,_ I thought, _he meant it when he said he wouldn't leave. Could he really have meant it? Would he tell me such things if he planned to leave after this case ends?_ But that train of thought led nowhere pleasant and had no definite answers, so I forced myself to push it to the back of my mind in favor of leaning into L, who shot me a surprised but pleased look.

As I'd stated—everything seemed fine. That is, until we entered the investigation room, and Soichiro greeted us with a question that was so stupid that I wanted to faint.

"Can you let Light go to Sayu's birthday party?"

I could tell L was about three seconds from punching my father's lights out, so I swiftly jumped in between them, raising both hands in a placating gesture. "If I leave," I reminded Soichiro, "Then I'll most likely be taken."

He glared at the ground. "Surely there's something. Sayu's one wish was to see you on her birthday!"

My heart softened at that, a pang of guilt running through me. "Dad, I just can't… I want to, but I can't. What's the point in me going if I never come back?"

He flinched at that. "I'm sorry," he said. "Sayu begged me to ask you. She hasn't seen you in months!"

Damn it. The heartstrings weren't just being pulled; they were being flat out wrenched out of my chest! "I could video chat with her…?"

"Aw, come on," Mello shot from his seat. His legs were kicked up on the desk, arms behind his head as he chewed on a bite of chocolate. "Go to the damn party, Light. We'll go with you as bodyguards if you want."

"Unacceptable," L said immediately. "I won't take such a risk."

Mello muttered, "Not your decision."

L gritted his teeth. "Leaving this establishment would put Light in danger. As long as he is here, he is protected not just by us, but also by the extensive security system."

"Don't give me that bullshit about your security system!" Mello protested. "You know as well as I do that it'll be nothing against Beyond. It wouldn't even stand up against _Wedy,_ were she here."

"It is more than enough to stop Beyond," L corrected.

"L…" Mello sighed irritably. "If _you_ were trying to break into this building, would _you_ be stopped by the damn security system?"

"It… it would offer _some_ resistance!"

Mello rolled his eyes. "Sure it would."

"Either way, Light is safest here," L growled. "He will not leave."

"L…" I started. I leaned in close, making sure he was the only one who could hear me. "Is it true that the security system is useless?"

He flinched. "It… it is state of the art equipment."

"L. Will it stop him?"

He fidgeted. "It will offer at least some resistance. But… if Beyond wishes to enter the building, then the security system alone isn't going to stop him. The most important part of the system are the cameras—they are what would warn us should he find a way in."

"And cameras can be set up in and around my house… correct?"

"Are you really trying to talk me into this?" L hissed.

"I'm being logical. Look, I agree it's not the best idea, what with Beyond being after me, but… L, you know that there's a possibility he'll get to me. And if he does, wouldn't it be good for me to see my sister before… before whatever comes next?"

L looked up at me sharply, and though he remained whispering, his voice had risen slightly in anger. "I have already been irresponsible with your life once, Light. I will not repeat the same mistake. And I will _not_ let you risk your life over a _party!_ "

"L," I murmured, leaning in closer, wanting be certain that no others heard us. "If I don't go, I may never see my sister again."

He recoiled harshly, a sour expression on his face. "I—you—!" he tried.

"Please," I whispered.

I had him. L was shifting nervously, not wanting to let me go, but knowing that he had to. Then he raised his voice, and proclaimed, "There will be conditions."

A wave of happiness filled me at the thought of being able to see Sayu. A wave so strong that it almost, _almost_ offset the knowledge that it was entirely possible that Beyond would make an attempt at capturing me.

"I will have a team of officers positioned in hidden positions around your house," L went on. "I will have cameras installed everywhere in a two mile radius, all of which will be monitored by Watari at all times. Officers will be positioned in all rooms of the Yagami household until the party is at its conclusion. The successors and I will accompany Light to the party, and we will be heavily armed. Should anything—and I mean _anything—_ go wrong, then I will have a helicopter on standby. The successors, all officers, and I will carry transmitters that are to be left on at all times. And most importantly, Light, you will not leave my side." He looked around the room, eyes narrowed in a bold challenge. "Any objections?"

There was a general shake of the head, though I thought I saw my father clutch at his forehead tiredly.

"Very well. The conditions are set."

Soichiro sighed, but seemingly accepted that he wasn't going to get a better deal. "Fine. Tomorrow is the party. Light, I've already gotten your present for her. It's wrapped and waiting in your room for you to take to her. The party starts at two. Don't be late. And don't make it obvious that the successors are armed; I don't want a complete freak-out on my hands."

"Deal. I will send someone to set up surveillance now." L sat back, running his thumb over his bottom lip. He looked worried. But worried or not, this was something that was going to happen. I was going to get to see my sister one last time before I was quite possibly kidnapped, or less favorably, killed.

I wondered if Beyond would dare to make a move during the party.

Either way, tomorrow would be a deciding factor in how the Beyond case went down.

 **And once again, L makes a foolish, foolish decision.**

 **Leave a review if you enjoyed, and I'll be back on Tuesday with another chapter!**


	7. Dawn

**Welcome to chapter seven! Quite honestly, I could have cut this entire chapter out and I don't think the story would have suffered for it—but it was just such a cute opportunity, and I thought I'd give readers a little break from the crazy before the events of chapter eight. Because trust me, once chapter eight hits, there won't be any lulls for quite a while. So I hope you enjoy this little break from the action.**

 **Chapter 7: Dawn**

I stood on the doorstep of my home, trying to ignore the four odd people perched on the steps behind me. I'd hoped that they'd at least try to look normal, but to no avail. L was still slouched over, Near had no shoes, Matt still wore his goggles, and Mello had on more leather than I'd ever seen in one place. I, on the other hand, was dressed nicely, in a dress shirt and slacks. The box tucked under one arm was Sayu's present—apparently some jacket from her favorite anime. I'd never heard of the show, though I assumed by the picture on the jacket that it must have been something terribly girly and dramatic. The entire time I'd been getting dressed and wrapping the present, L had been trying to convince me to call the whole thing off. It was too dangerous, he insisted. I'd be putting myself needlessly in danger—to which I told him that getting to see my sister was _not_ needlessly putting myself in danger, and that I retained the right to see my own family. After my outburst L had dialed back his protests, though he was obviously very uncomfortable with the situation.

I rang the doorbell, brushing off L's murmured protest. A few moments later Sachiko answered the door, a wide grin on her face when she spotted me. But that smile was overshadowed by a hint of concern—she knew that I was working on the Kira case (even though Soichiro had never told her directly, my mom wasn't an idiot—she figured it out herself), and consequently never stopped worrying about me. The smile faltered slightly when she noticed the group of gangly teenagers and one slightly older man behind me. "Ah, Light!" she said, struggling to ignore the four detectives. "Please, come in. The party has already begun." She stepped back, and I led the group through the doorway, where they stood looking around as if I'd taken them to a haunted house.

"Light," Sachiko said in a low voice, drawing me aside a few feet by the arm. "Are these some of the guards your father told me about?"

I recalled vaguely that dad had said something about telling Sachiko that I was under protection due to the dangerous nature of the case we were working. It had nearly given her a heart attack, but it was the only way to get her to agree to having guards placed in her house. "Yeah," I said swiftly. "Look, I'm sorry about all this… I wanted to see Sayu, but this was the only way I could get the team to agree to it."

"Your bodyguards…they're a bit…" _Young? Strange? Insane?_ "…Interesting."

"Yeah, they are." I leaned close, whispering in her ear, "They're young, but way more dangerous than any police officer. They were specially trained for this since they were children." Not a complete lie, I noted with satisfaction.

"Oh, I see!" She looked slightly reassured. "I can't say I'm pleased about this, Light. If you ask me, you should just come home and stay here! Take yourself off the case, and then maybe you'll be safe!"

I smiled painfully, giving her a nod though I knew what she suggested was impossible. I knew full well that I wouldn't be allowed to come home again after this. Not until Beyond was caught or I was dead. Although, obviously, if I were killed, then I would never be coming home. I shuddered at the thought of my poor mother being subjected to such a terrible thing as to know that her son had died at the hands of someone like Beyond.

I realized suddenly that my mother was still speaking. "…By all means, go on and talk to other kids! Have fun! Cake is at four, so make yourself comfortable!" She turned and went back to the kitchen to continue baking, not realizing that I hadn't heard a word she'd said after her comment about me coming home.

"So…" Matt said awkwardly, coming up behind me. His Gameboy was dangling at his side, the screen dark. "What do we do, exactly?"

I stared at them blankly. "Don't tell me you've never been to a party!"

They all shook their heads—even L.

"Perfect," I sighed. "In that case, just follow my lead." I led into the living room. Sachiko had done a good job—the entire place was draped with bright pink banners and balloons, and there were two large, fold out tables on the back wall, both of which were laden with piles upon piles of snack food. On the ground beside one table, a large pile of presents balanced unsteadily on carpeted ground. I deposited Sayu's present onto the pile, making sure that the tower wouldn't topple anytime soon. "Now," I said, turning to face my companions. "When you're at a party, you're supposed to—"

A pink blur slammed into my side, cutting me off. "Big brother!" A familiar girly voice shrieked with excitement. "I'm so glad you made it! I was beginning to think that nasty detective you're working with forbade you from coming!"

L cleared his throat. "That nasty detective' is right here. And I was less than willing to allow your brother to attend, but your father softened my stony heart."

I nudged him as Sayu looked him over angrily. "You!" she snapped. "You're the one that's been keeping Light away from me! I hate you! Why are you even here?"

"Because I have no choice but to keep an eye on your brother," he said, holding up the wrist with his end of the cuffs on it. "I don't expect you to understand."

Sayu turned her glower on the three successors. "And you three! Who are you?"

"Bodyguards," Mello said smoothly.

"Yeah," Matt chimed in. "Here to protect your brother."

The two turned to Near expectantly for the next part of the conversation. The young male didn't say anything. He was too busy staring slack-jawed at Sayu. His eyes were huge, lips slightly parted. "Um…" he choked. "I…"

Sayu's expression softened minutely as she looked at him. "Sorry," she said after a moment of watching him squirm. "I'm Sayu, by the way. Light's sister."

"N-Near," he stuttered.

"Hmm? Odd name," she pointed out. "I like it, though."

Near looked like he was about to pass out. I wondered if he'd ever spoken to a woman before. If his flushed face was any indication, he hadn't.

"Come meet my friends," Sayu offered him, and the first ranked successor immediately took the offered arm. He slowly allowed her to tug him over to a ring of Sayu's friends, eyes never leaving her face. As they vanished into a crowd of girls, Sayu called over her shoulder, "Sorry, Light! I'll talk to you in a minute, okay?"

I shook my head, more than amused that Sayu was more eager to talk to a complete stranger than the big brother she hadn't seen for months.

Mello snorted, leaning on Matt's shoulder. "What a love struck idiot," he said. I found the statement rather ironic, seeing as Matt was gazing at Mello with adoration that I'd only ever seen in movies—and Mello was gladly returning the gaze.

I glanced at L. "Well, shall we?" I held out my hand.

He took it hesitantly, saying, "Light, are you sure you want to stay? I mean, you saw your sister, can't we go? Beyond could strike at any moment, and one of your bodyguards was just lured away by your sister! We can't get more than a foot away from you!"

I briefly wondered if that was the reason that the handcuff chain had seemed much shorter when I woke up. I'd questioned L, but he'd denied everything. "There are about ten bodyguards in here," I responded. "There are cameras in every corner of the house, and everywhere within two miles of here. Watari is monitoring everything, and if he sees anything, he'll contact us. And besides, it's only a few hours. A few short hours, then I'll be shut back up in our room where you want me."

That didn't appear to make him feel any better. If we hadn't been in public (especially at my parents' house) I would have kissed him just to make him smile. But I couldn't, so I settled for holding his hand tighter. "Come on," I urged. "We can get closer to Near if that makes you feel better." He released my hand, instead going for my arm and wrapping it in an inescapable embrace. I waited for his shallow nod, then made my way into the room where Near was now standing awkwardly in a group of girls. The girls were cooing over him (apparently the teen was "adorable"), touching his hair and asking endless questions. I noted that Matt and Mello had followed us in, though they stuck to the back wall and spoke in hushed tones. At one point I saw Matt's jaw drop and his eyes flicker over to L and me. I wished I could read lips.

"He's proclaiming shock over the fact that we're romantically involved," L supplied.

"How did you—?"

"I can read lips like words on a page," the detective said tensely. "I suppose the cat is out of the bag at this point, it would be pointless to pretend in front of them any longer."

"They were going to figure it out anyways," I said. "They _are_ geniuses."

Normally that would have sparked at least a small smile, but L was too on edge to even look at me. His eyes kept moving from person to person, place to place, and I realized just how afraid he was of losing me to Beyond.

"Hey," I said softly, running a hand through his hair. "It's going to be okay. Relax." He looked up at me, eyes wide. I could tell he was about to tell me about the dangers of leaving HQ again, but then—

"Okay."

I stared. "What?"

"Okay. I will attempt to calm down. It is clear to me that you will not be able to enjoy this party until I do. So by all means…" He gestured to the living room. "Converse with the guests."

I shot him a small smile. "Glad to hear you've come to your senses." I secured my grip on his arm and walked further in, calling out to Sayu as I went.

If this was going to quite possibly be the last time I saw my sister then I might as well make the most of it.

†††

Matt nearly choked on his drink, nearly spewing the fruity punch all over the carpet. _"What?"_ he spluttered, still coughing. "L and _him?_ The suspect? Are you sure?"

Mello leaned against the wall, fiddling with a chocolate bar wrapper. "Yup. I heard them talking the other night, and—"

"You mean you _eavesdropped,"_ Matt corrected.

"Whatever. I _overheard_ them talking, and let's just say that there's no way they're not involved with each other."

"You didn't misunderstand?"

"No way," Mello snorted. "No misunderstanding the things they were saying."

"Are you sure they're not just acting because Beyond is watching them?"

"Why the hell would L want to convince Beyond to kidnap Light?"

"Keeping up appearances?" Matt offered weakly.

Mello raised a brow, jabbing a thumb in L's direction. "Look at that and tell me they're faking."

Matt looked over to the Kira suspect and the great detective. They were standing unusually close. As he watched, L latched onto Light's arm, pulling him impossibly close. Light murmured something to him, running a hand through his hair. "Damn…" he whispered. "You're not kidding! They're totally infatuated with each other! How the hell did that slip past us?"

Mello shrugged. "I guess we should tell Near, don't you think?"

"Yeah. Hey, Near!" Matt raised a hand, waving to the older male. He looked up, shyly excused himself from Sayu's group, and joined them.

"Having fun with your new girlfriend?" Mello mocked.

He blushed furiously. "She's not—"

"Yeah, yeah," Matt said. "Look at L and Light!"

Near looked over to the two males. L was still as close to Light as possible, clutching at his arm. "What about them?"

"Don't you think they seem… _together?_ Like, romantically?"

"Of course. You didn't deduce that from what occurred last night?" He sighed, seeing their confused expressions. "L has clearly changed. He may have claimed that it was due to stress and fear, but L feels such thing with every case he encounters. So obviously something is different with this case, something new. What else could that something be if not L's attraction to Light?" He didn't wait for a response. "Even if you didn't notice that, there were still other signs. The two of them were very close last night, don't you think? Always watching each other, exchanging gentle words, maintaining contact with each other. It wasn't exactly a platonic display. I would have thought _you two_ of all people would have figured it out."

Matt raised a hand to the back of his head sheepishly. "I don't know, I guess I just always kind of considered L to be asexual. It never even crossed my mind that he would actually fall for someone!"

"Especially not the main suspect in his case," Mello murmured.

Near cocked his head. "I too was surprised when I figured it out. However, if L wishes to have sexual relations with Light Yagami, I will not be the one to get in his way."

"Sexual relations?" Matt squawked. "Who said anything about—?"

Near rolled his eyes. "Don't act innocent. We both know you've done things with Mello that would make any porn star roll in his grave."

Mello grinned. "Guilty."

Another eye roll. "I would like to return to my conversation with Sayu now. I find her quite enjoyable to be around." He turned and walked back to Sayu irritably.

Matt shook his head. "I can't believe that this is happening. Has the world gone insane?"

The blonde pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "It seems that way, yeah." His eyes raked over the scene. "Do you have any idea how bad things are going to get if Beyond gets his hands on Light?"

Mello glared at the ground darkly. "Yeah, I know. Don't forget that I'm intimately familiar with his methods of torture."

Matt dipped his head, murmuring, "I haven't forgotten. But you, like all the students at Wammy's House, were raised to know how to deal with such conditions without breaking. I can't imagine what it would do to Light—someone who's never had to endure such pain."

"It'd do more than just break him." Mello's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "It'll _kill_ him. And if L's in love with the guy, then it'll tear him up too. He already acts depressed constantly, so I don't want to think about what he'll be like once his precious suspect is taken away from him."

Matt shook his head worriedly. "Honestly, we can pretend to protect him all L wants. But we all know that it's only a matter of time before Beyond strikes. And when he does, I don't trust in our ability to stop him."

"I don't know about that," Mello muttered. "I know that L can stop him. But I don't know if he can stop him before Light is killed."

†††

Less than ten minutes later, Sayu slipped away from her friends and cornered me. "Big brother, I haven't seen you in ages! _Talk_ to me, don't just stand in a corner with that weird guy!"

L muttered, "I'm right here, you know."

I shushed him softly, responding to Sayu, "That weird guy happens to be my friend, Sayu. Don't be cruel. And _you_ were the one who ran off with Near."

She sniffed pettily, ignoring my comment on Near. "Come on, Light! I know this is the guy that's keeping you and dad from coming home. Mom thinks I'm asleep when dad calls, but I'm not. I hear what they say to each other about some nasty ol' detective that keeps Light chained to him like some sort of pervert!"

Funny… she sounded like Misa.

"And you should pay more attention to Misa!" Sayu went on. "We talk, you know! I know that you haven't called her in over two weeks—the last time you spoke was in that horrible hospital room!"

"You talk to Misa?" I asked, surprised. Truthfully, I hadn't thought much of the blonde model in the past two weeks. I hadn't even gotten a call from her. "Never mind, don't answer that. I haven't gotten any calls from her, so I didn't think she was worried."

"Ah, about that…" L broke in sheepishly. I turned to look at him; one hand was running through his hair, the other clenched in a fist.

"Ryuzaki," I said, barely catching myself before I called him by his detective name. "What did you do?"

"I… may or may not have been deleting Miss Amane's messages from your phone for the past two weeks."

" _Ryuzaki!"_ I yelped. "How often has she been calling me?"

"Oh…"

"Ryu…" I warned.

"Approximately nine times…"

I sighed in relief. Only nine times in the past two weeks… that wasn't too bad, right?

"…A day."

"Nine times a _day?_ Ryuzaki, why didn't you tell me?"

"You…seemed stressed, what with everything that was going on, and…" He fidgeted uncomfortably.

He—he was _jealous._ Of _Misa._ "You're jealous!" I blurted before I could stop myself. _Oh dear,_ I thought as Sayu's eyes suddenly grew to the size of moons. _That may have been a bad idea._ "I mean…" I tried to save myself, but words failed me.

"Oh my _god!_ " Sayu squealed. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, seemingly searching for words, but all she managed to squeak out was an embarrassingly loud, excited noise.

"Sayu, don't take that the wrong way," I attempted. "It's not what it sounds like."

"Oh my god, the handcuffs!" she gasped. "Light, I never took you for the type to—"

"No, no!" I cut in. "That's not why we have these! Sayu, please, calm down!"

She didn't seem to hear me. She was already standing on her toes to get on eye level with L, examining him with excited eyes. "You're Ryuzaki? You look a little older than Light—how old are you? Where are you from? Why are you handcuffed together? What kinds of cases do you solve?"

L took a step back, clearly overwhelmed by the flow of questions. "Ah…"'

"Sayu!" I tugged her away from L. "Come on, don't be like that! I told you, what I said was completely incorrect—he's not jealous."

"Actually, I might be a little jealous…" L murmured.

"Not helping!" I hissed.

In the other room, the doorbell rang loudly. I heard the door opening, followed by a few muffled words—and then came the sound of squeals and excited words. I frowned, glancing over in the direction of the sounds. What was going on?

Sayu seemed to notice the commotion as well. "Oh!" she said excitedly. "That must be—" Suddenly her expression fell, and her hand shot up to cover her mouth. "Oh. Oh, I've done a bad thing."

"Sayu…" I warned, a nervous chill running up my spine. "What did you do?"

"Oh… nothing really," she said, eyes angled downwards. "It's just… I didn't know about your thing with Ryuzaki, so…"

"First, there is no _thing_ with Ryuzaki!" _If I let her think that and she says something to mom, I'm finished!_ "And second, _what did you_ —?"

"Light! Light, I've missed you so much!"

Oh. Oh no.

A blonde blur crashed into me at terminal velocity, knocking me back into the wall. "Light!" that voice wailed. "Why didn't you return any of my messages? I thought you cared about me, you… you meanie!"

"Misa…" I gasped, struggling to regain the breath she'd knocked out of me. "It's… it's good to see you again!"

"You never responded to my messages! Ever since that pervert locked me out of that building you're always in, I never see you anymore! How hard would it be to visit, huh?"

I patted her awkwardly on the back, well aware of L's accusing stare. "I'm sorry, Misa, but I've been a bit busy, and—"

"And you should call me back!" she interrupted. "What kind of a boyfriend are you, pulling something like this? You didn't even call me when you were in the hospital!"

"Well, that was because—"

"And then when I go to visit you in the hospital, I get kicked out without so much as a kind word! Explain yourself, Light!"

I stared down at the furious model, at a loss for words. This girl… I didn't even know why I'd begun dating her in the first place, or why I'd allowed the relationship to continue. What had I seen in her? Surely there was something. I wasn't the kind of person to date someone on looks alone, and Misa had shown no sign of possessing anything above an average intellect. I had the nagging feeling that I'd needed her for something, but I had no idea what that something possibly could have been. "I'm sorry I haven't called," I said finally. "Like I said, I've been busy with the case, and for some reason, I never got any of your messages. My phone must have some kind of problem." _Yeah,_ I thought. _And that "problem" just happens to be standing right next to me._

"Aww, Light!" Her grip on me tightened, and I felt that if she were any stronger, one of my ribs might have cracked. "So you didn't abandon me? It was just your nasty phone?"

"Yeah, Misa. It was the phone."

"Oh, thank goodness!" And just like that, her mood swung from furious to happy, as if she'd been looking to blame my negligence on the first thing that came up.

L cleared his throat meaningfully. I shot him a warning look, begging him silently not to do anything drastic. And then he opened his mouth, and my heart sank. "Actually, it had nothing to do with Light's phone," he announced.

 _No, L, don't start anything!_

Misa shot him a fierce glare, her arms constricting further around my chest. "What are you talking about, you nasty old man?"

"Old man?" L echoed. I bit back a laugh at the expression of horror on his face. "I am twenty-four!"

"That's way older than Light!" Misa insisted, sticking out her tongue childishly.

L's jaw opened and closed comically for a moment before he regained his composure. "You're older than him as well!"

Misa's face was turning slightly red. "Ryu," I warned. "Come on, stop this."

He looked utterly betrayed, and once again I fought back laughter. Did he really think I favored Misa over _him?_

"Yeah, Ryuzaki!" Misa hissed. "Why can't you just leave?"

"Unlike you, Light actually _wants_ me here!" L snapped.

Misa gasped, looking overly offended. "What are you suggesting?" she demanded.

"I'm suggesting that even if I hadn't been deleting your messages before Light saw them, he still wouldn't have wanted to speak to you!"

Oh no. Misa's entire body tensed up, and I felt her hands curl into fists, gathering the fabric of my shirt in handfuls. She may have been small, but when she got angry I knew how much trouble she could be. I half expected her to haul off and slap L across the face. But instead, all she did was glare ruefully. " _I'm_ Light's girlfriend!" she announced smugly. "So there!"

I'd never seen L so angry. His cheeks were lightly flushed, his hands were clenched at his sides, I could practically _hear_ his teeth grinding together. "Well…" he began, digging his nails into his jeans. "I'm Light's boyfriend!"

I froze, eyes wide. "B-boyfriend?" I echoed, sure that I must have resembled a deer in the headlights.

L immediately looked downwards in embarrassment. "Well, yes, I assumed…"

There was a great swell of warmth building in my chest, a surge that was growing too large for me to contain. "Ryuzaki…" I murmured, praying that the grin on my face didn't look as foolish as it felt. The detective looked almost frightened as he met my gaze, as if he expected me to yell at him or something equally ridiculous.

Misa's eyes narrowed into slits. " _You,"_ she spat, "are no such thing!"

I believe L could have let it go if she'd stopped right there. If Misa had just dropped the subject, backed away, then the damage may have been reparable. But Misa didn't know when she had gone too far—and her next actions crossed the line by several miles.

"All you are is a desperate old man!" Misa went on. "Completely useless! You're only chasing after Light because there's no one better around!" She pulled away from me just far enough to jab one finger at L accusingly. "Why can't you just leave him alone? He doesn't love you, he loves _me_!" She turned back to me, both hands winding into the fabric covering my shoulders. Too late, I realized what she was about to do. She pulled me down with surprising strength, and in an ill thought out, foolish moment, she pressed her lips to mine.

Our lips had barely made contact before I heard L let out a furious hiss. There was a sudden rush of air around me, a dull thud, then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I blinked, and by the time my vision refocused on what was in front of me, L already had Misa pinned back against the wall. Some of Misa's hair had escaped her carefully styled pigtails—she looked almost like she'd received a minor electric shock. And most noticeably, her lipstick was speared ever so slightly.

"Let go of me!" Misa shrieked, pushing back against L, who had one arm firmly across her shoulders. The detective was hunched over, hair hanging in front of his face. "What are you doing?"

L raised his head, and I saw a red mark forming on his cheek. Misa had slapped him. "Leave."

"What?" Misa wailed. "What you mean leave? Sayu invited me, I have a right to be here!" She turned her head to me, eyes wide and pleading. "Come on, Light, get him off me! You want me here, right?"

"W-well… um, I…" I stuttered.

Misa's eyes widened. Her mouth hung open embarrassingly. "You—you don't want…?"

"I mean…" I trailed off. I didn't hate Misa, not even close—but I certainly didn't love her.

She seemed to take my silence as affirmation. She pushed L off harshly and whirled back around to face me. In two large steps she was back in front of me, and for a moment I thought she would dare to kiss me again. L certainly seemed to be thinking the same thing, for he was already moving to intercept her—but before he could, Misa was already raising her hand, moving to slap me in the same way she had L. Immediately I raised my hand to catch her blow. But clearly it hadn't been necessary, for it was but a moment later that L's spindly fingers wrapped around Misa's wrist, holding her back with ease.

"You would strike the one you claim to love so dearly?" L questioned venomously. "You would stay in his presence even after he asked so clearly for you to leave?"

Misa wrenched her wrist away from L. "Whatever. _You_ can't make me leave."

"Stay away from Light," L responded coldly. "Or I _will_ remove you from the premises."

Misa sniffed indignantly, turning on heel. Without responding, she marched off in the direction of the ring of Sayu's friends, all of who were staring over at us with wide, concerned eyes.

For a long moment after that, a heavy silence fell between L and me. Then, assured that the prying guests had lost interest, I murmured, "I'm not sure if I should thank you or hit you."

"I'd prefer to be thanked," L responded lightly, raising a hand to the red mark on his cheek. "I've been hit enough for one day, don't you think?"

"Let me see," I urged. I gently pulled his hand away from his face, tilting his chin up slightly so I could get a good look at the mark. Misa had really done a number on him, I realized. The mark spread from just under his eye all the way down to his jaw, and it looked painful. I chuckled, "Be glad she didn't use her nails."

He shot Misa a scathing glare. She had her back to us now, and was chatting with Sayu's friends. "I despise her," L growled. "She shouldn't have touched you."

"Just let it go," I advised him. "It's not a big deal."

L shook his head irritably, wrenching his eyes away from Misa and returning his gaze to me. For a moment he merely stared at me—then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and reached a hand up to my face, running his thumb over my bottom lip. "There was some lipstick," he explained when I shot him a confused glance.

"O-oh," I stuttered, warmth spreading across my cheeks.

Someone cleared their throat behind us. "Um… Light?" Sayu broke in. She was still watching the two of us, her eyes brimming with guilt. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for inviting your friend," I protested, drawing away from L. "You couldn't have known what she would do."

She shifted nervously. "I'd better go talk to her," she decided. "I'll talk to you again before you leave, Light." She headed off in Misa's direction.

I turned back to L. His eyes had locked back in Misa's direction. "Come on, let's get away from this for a while, okay?" I offered, seeing how tense he was.

He finally tore his eyes away from the model, turning back to me. "Get away?"

"Let's go up to my room," I translated. "It's just as safe there as in here, and it's a lot quieter. What do you say?"

For a heartbeat, something like excitement flickered through his gaze. Then he composed himself, responding, "I'd like that."

†††

My room was just how I'd left it. It looked the same exact way it had been before the Kira case began, before I met L. Before Beyond targeted me. Before… everything. My books were all neatly in rows on my bookshelves, my computer was perfectly straight on my desk, my bed was untouched. If I opened my closet, I knew that several of my outfits would still be there—though most of them had migrated to the task force headquarters.

"It hasn't changed," I remarked, more to myself than L. "It's been the same since I was in grade school—with a few minor changes, of course." I stepped further into the room as if in a daze. I had spent countless months at task force headquarters, able to return home only for short periods of time. It seemed almost unreal to return now and find everything so untouched, as if I had never been away at all. The only things that seemed to have changed were mom and Sayu. I walked over to my desk and ran a finger over the top of my computer monitor. It came away caked in dust—apparently my mother hadn't wanted to clean in here since I'd left. As my eyes raked down my desk, I noticed that my mother had even left one of my drawers open. There was a key sticking from the lock… what had I been thinking? Why would I just leave the key there? I shrugged it off and moved on, heading over to my bed. On the wall adjacent to my bed there was a large window, one that I loved to keep open when I studied. But now it was closed, the blinds drawn depressingly. Right below it was a door that led out onto a small balcony. Thoughtlessly, I moved to the window and threw it open. Beams of light flooded into the room, illuminating the tiny dust particles drifting about. A soft rustle behind me caught my attention. When I turned around, L had pulled one of the books off my shelf and was flipping through the pages.

"You have quite a collection," he said. "I've red hundreds of mystery novels, but several of these are new to me. Where did you manage to obtain them all?"

"Online," I answered. "I got a few of them from America."

He looked up, a surprised expression on his face. "Do you read English?"

"I read enough to understand the books I have."

"How typical of you…" L put down the book he was holding, directing his gaze to the bottom shelf. "Ah, forgive me, Light. But is that a series dedicated entirely to _cats_ on your bottom shelf?"

My eyes darted to where he was pointing. Oh, it was _that_ shelf. Sayu's shelf. A few years ago, my little sister had entirely run out of space in her room to store all her books and manga. So, like the good older brother that I was, I'd let her use my bottom shelf for whatever she chose. And she'd chosen the _Warriors_ series, the series L was currently criticizing. "They're Sayu's," I smiled. "I let her take over that shelf."

"I see…" he murmured, clearly amused.

I moved to my bed, seating myself on the ground so my back was leaning against the bedframe. I watched L run his fingers over the spines of my books, occasionally stopping to examine one. He looked the most relaxed I'd seen him in days, standing there in my room. I could hardly take my eyes off him, knowing that this may be the last time for a while he was this relaxed. As I watched, I leaned back even further, and my hand brushed something beneath my bed. Frowning, I grasped onto the object I'd felt and pulled it out from its hiding place.

"L," I called to him. "Come sit beside me and look at this."

The detective placed the book he was holding back on the shelf and came to crouch beside me, knees pulled to his chest, as per usual. I pulled up the object I'd removed from beneath my bed—a shoebox—and placed it on my lap, taking the lid off.

L blinked at the contents in confusion. "What is that?"

"It's a memory box. You collect things that remind you of the most important things to you, and you put them in a shoebox. Then you hide the shoebox so no one can find it." I pulled out a stack of pictures bound together via rubber band. "Everything in here is from when I was young." I unbound the pictures and handed them to L, and he began to flip through them as I reached for one of the objects in the box.

"You had friends?" L inquired, halting on a picture. I looked over to see that he was holding a photograph of my friends from grade school. We were standing in a wooded area, and there were several other members of our class standing behind us in the distance.

"Of course I had friends," I responded. "That was from a field trip—those two guys are Onodera and Takano, and we were pretty close."

"What happened to them?"

"Oh… I think they got into manga editing. I don't see them anymore."

L gave a slow nod, then continued flipping through the photographs. There were a dozen photos in the little bundle, and each one brought back waves of memories. I saw a picture of myself, my arms wrapped around a bundle of cloth that held the newly born Sayu. I saw a picture of my eighth grade graduation, and of myself standing on the podium to give a graduation speech. There were photos of other childhood friends, of past events and favorite places. It had been so long since I thought about the time I attended my cousin's birthday party, or the time I got to go to a school competition in Hokkaido with a few classmates.

"Look at this," I urged, nudging L's shoulder. The detective put the photos back in the box and accepted what I was trying to hand him.

"Letters?" he asked curiously. "And postcards?"

"Yeah," I said. "Mom and dad used to travel a lot and leave me here, before they had Sayu. They used to send me letters and postcards from wherever they went." L flipped through the letters slowly, eyes skimming each one.

"They love you," he murmured, and for a moment I thought I saw a hint of wistfulness in his eyes.

"No more and no less than your family loves you."

He looked up at me in surprise. "I believe I told you that I have no family."

"Yes, you do," I corrected with a smile. "You have your successors and Watari. They may not be a conventional family, but they're yours." I passed him another item—this time, an envelope full of ticket stubs from concerts, events, and movies I'd attended. I watched in amusement as L curiously removed one after another, making small comments whenever he found something interesting. When he pushed aside the envelope, I handed him the laminated paper bracelet I'd received when I had to go to the hospital to get stitches.

"It was the silliest thing," I told him when he asked what had happened. "Sayu left her rollerblades at the top of the stairs on morning, and I slipped when I stepped on them. I fell completely down the stairs and hit the back of my head on the railing. I scared mom half to death, and Sayu wouldn't stop crying when she saw all the blood… it was a mess."

L laughed, and I handed him the next thing, then the next. L took each object I offered, internalizing them as if they would tell him everything about me. Whenever he finished with one thing I handed him another, keeping my eyes carefully locked on his face. It was heartening to watch how he studied each trivial thing with such a fascinated expression, drinking in every new fact the learned about me. It went on like that for upwards of thirty minutes, the silence cracked only by L's occasional inquires and the rustling of paper. It wasn't long before I'd laid out almost every item in the box, spreading the past eighteen years of my life out on the ground around us. Only when there was one item left in the box did L pause.

I removed the last item with a frown. I didn't remember it. It was a folded up piece of paper the size of my palm, worn and ragged around the edges. With gentle fingers I unfolded the thing.

"What is it?" L murmured.

I didn't respond at first. I was too busy staring at what I'd just unfolded. I silently handed the paper to L, unable to find the words to describe it.

"My dream…" L read. He paused for a long moment, and I knew he was looking at the crudely drawn picture of my family and me, standing in front of what I thought was supposed to be our house. He took a moment to look up at me. "This is from when you would have been in kindergarten," he realized. His eyes went back to the paper. "My dream," he said again, "is to protect the world from evil, just like my father." He peered at me through a curtain of hair. "You had deep thoughts for a kindergartener."

I shrugged. "I just know how this world works. Everyone out there wants to believe in an ideal society. But in reality there's all this pain, all this misfortune going on all over the world, and no one cares as long as it's not happening to them. That's why we need people like my dad—like you. You're the only things keeping those criminals, those _monsters_ from running free and slaughtering everyone beneath them." I reached over and took the paper from L, folding it back up and placing it in the bottom of the box. "I think I can understand Kira somewhat, in that regard. All those evil people… all those people who use others as stepping stones…those who killed without reason. He… he thinks that they should all disappear, right? I understand that."

"Light." L turned completely to face me. "Do you agree with Kira?"

I shot him an exasperated look. He'd agreed to stop accusing me, and here he was, doing it again. "L—"

"I'm not asking because I'm accusing you of being Kira," he cut me off. "If I am to be honest, I too understand why Kira does what he does. But one does not have to agree with an idea to entertain it, you see." His hand covered mine in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. "I merely want to know… do you agree with him?"

I stared the man in the eyes. Then, slowly, I shook my head. "No. I do not." I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw a flicker of relief deep within L's obsidian eyes. "I understand how Kira justifies it to himself. Or at least, how the original justified it. But his logic is flawed—you can't call yourself a hero because you murder a murderer. All you've done is replace one criminal with another; nothing has really changed."

"Kira would argue that much has changed. Crime rates are down significantly, after all."

"No. They aren't. All that's happed is criminals have begun hiding their crimes. People are still being killed; crimes are still being committed. Criminals still run rampant. Look at it this way—when you take antibiotics for an illness, it works, right? It may take a few days, but the infection, or illness, or whatever you're fighting goes away. But illnesses aren't static, they're fluid. They move, they grow, they find ways around those antibiotics and come back even stronger than before. And the more you use that same antibiotic, the less it works. That antibiotic misses things, slips up. That's what's begun happening. Criminals have inoculated themselves against Kira, so to speak, by moving crime even deeper into the shadows. And once Kira finds a way to get to those hidden criminals, they'll move again, and again. It'll be an endless chase between Kira, the antibiotic, and criminals, the infection." I turned my hand beneath L's, threading our fingers together. "So no, I don't agree with Kira. Perhaps, if his method were actually effective, then I would think differently. But for now, when there are not only flaws in his logic, but in his methods, I cannot agree."

There was a small, goofy smile on L's face as my words registered in his mind. "I hoped you would say that." His other hand, the one not tangled with mine, came up and pressed to the back of my head, drawing me in until our foreheads pressed together lightly. "How did I survive so long without you?"

"I don't know," I chuckled. "How did you?"

His breath ghosted across my face as he laughed. Then he paused, and just for a moment we were still. There was a strange tension in the air, not unlike the tension I'd felt the night L had first kissed me. L ran his tongue over his pale lips nervously, and I felt his fingers curl more tightly around mine. "Light, can I…?"

I nodded slowly, not resisting in the slightest as he leaned in and kissed me. For just a moment I could tell he was trying to keep the kiss chaste—his lips were sealed, motions gentle. But just as quickly I felt that gentleness melt away, and all of the control he'd retained the previous night was gone. His hands closed on my shoulders firmly, and in a moment that seemed both too fast and too slow, he pulled me up and sent me sprawling back onto the bed with one firm push. For a short moment he stayed where he was, eyes flickering over me. But that moment was gone as soon as it had begun, and a moment later L was suddenly on top of me, lips covering mine in a kiss that had lost all chastity. His tongue dated out teasingly, brushing against mine just lightly enough to be maddening, and as his lips covered mine, I felt his fingers close around my wrists, locking both arms above my head with no chance of escape. L gave my wrists a harsh squeeze, and I got the message— _don't move._

L's lips didn't break contact with mine even once as he released my wrists, sliding his hands down my arms, pressing his palms against my sides. And even when he finally broke away, he merely moved down to my neck, fastening his lips there and drawing deeply.

"L!" I protested, "Stop, you'll leave a mark!" But even as I said it, I tilted my head to one side invitingly. My arms were still stretched above my head, obeying L's silent command to stay there. I found it slightly troubling that my body seemed to be taking its orders from L rather than me, but L's roaming hands and warm lips soon vanquished any such concerns. I heard myself let out a soft, pleading noise against my will. And in response I felt a chuckle rise in L's chest, the sound breathless, and above all else, content. His cool fingers dipped beneath the collar of my shirt for just a heartbeat, and I was sure he could feel the blood rushing beneath my skin. But just a moment later those fingers had left my skin in favor of undoing the first button of my shirt, then the next, and the next, until L was practically ripping them open in his attempt to rid me of the article of clothing. It wasn't until he was in the process of tugging my shirt out from under me that he paused.

"Is this okay?" he asked, and I thought with some amusement that he should have asked me that _before_ he started trying to rip my shirt off. Still, I nodded deliriously. No sooner had L seen the response than he'd finished yanking my shirt completely off in one, smooth motion, tossing it off the bed. I had no time to think, no time to realize how bad this situation could get, before L's hands were on my bare skin. With no cloth barrier separating skin from skin, L's motions seemed to grow in intensity. His tongue had long since stopped its infernal teasing, moving instead to tangle with mine in earnest.

L pulled away suddenly with a gasp, his chest heaving. "Light…"

"Hmm?"

"I think… " His fingers were still dancing across my bare skin, pressing into my sides maddeningly. I arched up into the touch subconsciously, sending a flicker of a smile across L's face. He dipped his head close, his lips brushing lightly against mine. His breath rolled across my face lightly, and I felt the tension in the room suddenly increase tenfold. There was a sudden but gentle tug on my belt, and my eyes flickered down to see the fingers of one hand curled around the buckle. L dipped his head even further, and his next words were barely audible, whispered into my ear in a soft, breathless tone. "Light, I think I might lo—"

There was a loud knock at the door.

L immediately drew away, moving so quickly I felt the air swish around us.

"Hey, L! Light!" a familiar voice called through the door. "What the hell do you think you're doing in there?"

I immediately scrambled to pull my shirt back on, fumbling with the buttons and adjusting the collar so the red mark spreading across my neck would be less visible. I pushed myself off the bed, stooping to gather the various items scattered around us and placing them somewhat carefully back in their box. L, meanwhile, leaned back against the nearest wall and struggled to get his breathing under control. He was terribly flushed, and it was painfully obvious just how much his control had slipped.

The voice sounded again. "Oh, for god's sake—I'm coming in! _Please_ be fully clothed!" The door swung open to reveal Mello, standing with one hand partially covering his eyes.

"Uncover your eyes!" L spat irritably. "Nothing happened." The look he shot me was almost wistful.

Mello's eyes raked up and down our forms. "Yeah," he snorted, "tell that to Light's shirt. You do know it's off by one button, right?"

I felt my cheeks warm as I looked down at myself. He was right—in my haste I'd put it on completely wrong. While I fixed the buttons, Mello went on, "And you, L—you're blushing. I thought we were here so Light could see Sayu, _not_ so you two could make out on _his_ bed!" He jabbed a finger in my direction.

"Did you come in here just to interrupt us?" L growled, "Or did you have something else in mind?"

Mello rolled his eyes. "Sayu's about to open her presents, and then they're serving cake. Everyone's waiting for Sayu's precious big brother to get his ass downstairs!"

Oh, right… I'd been so swept up in what was happening with L that the whole party had just slipped out of my mind. "Sorry, sorry!" I turned to L. "Come on, let's go."

L hesitated for a moment, that wistful look overtaking his features. Then he nodded with a sigh. "Very well. We will continue this elsewhere."

†††

The rest of the party went exceptionally, with everyone seeming to have enjoyed themselves. When Sayu opened the jacket I'd given her, she practically shrieked with joy—and the rest of her gifts had certainly made her smile. After that, cake was served (which L, of course, ate an abnormal amount of). When it had finally come time to leave, L had almost dragged me out the door, barely giving me time to hug Sayu goodbye and apologize for not being around much anymore. I could tell that despite having a relatively good time, L was eager to get back to moderate safety. As he pulled me out the door, I promised Sayu, against my better judgment, that I'd come back and spend lots of time with her after the case was closed. The girl threw herself at me in a fierce hug, and I thought that she might have been about to cry as she bid me farewell. After Sayu's heartfelt goodbye, even L had a small smile on his face.

The five of us strolled down the driveway to the waiting limo. We all piled into the back, and as the door closed and locked behind us, I finally realized that nothing was going to happen. Beyond was not going to attack.

The instant we reached HQ and locked the doors behind us, L practically melted into a puddle of relief. The party had really done a number on him, and he seemed thrilled to be back where he thought Beyond couldn't get me.

"That was fun," Near commented as he flopped down on the couch. He removed another blank finger puppet from his pocket and began to work on it. I noted with amusement that the hair he was designing resembled Sayu's. A smile rose to my lips as I remembered my sister entering her phone number into his cell before we left. The blush that had spread across the young detective's face had been nothing short of hilarious. But while Near fawned over his success at getting Sayu's phone number, Matt and Mello hadn't taken their eyes off of L and me since we'd gotten in the car. I shuddered, remembering the look of shock I'd received from the two successors, and knowing that they now knew about my relationship with L. And Mello seemed especially irritated after walking in on us in my room.

"Yes, it was quite enjoyable," L agreed. Though I knew that _he_ thought it had been enjoyable for other reasons entirely. "I am both relieved and confused that Beyond made no attempt on Light's safety while we were at the party. I am most curious as to why he hasn't done anything… it's not like him to wait."

Near looked up from the mini-Sayu. "If I were to guess, I'd say that Beyond loves drama. He may just be waiting until suspense is at its greatest. The anticipation will be just as bad as the abduction at this rate."

L growled. "The bastard. We'll begin work on tracking him down tonight."

"Great," I said. "Where do we start?"

"Oh no, _you_ don't start anywhere," L said firmly. "The two of us are going to shower and go to bed early—it's been a long day, and I promised you a full seven hours of sleep every night. We'll be starting early tomorrow, and I don't want you to wear yourself out."

"I want to help you!" I protested indignantly. "I'm just as capable of the successors!"

"I know you are, but I'm not letting you loose sleep."

"Of course," I grumbled. "I end up hospitalized one time, and now I can't do anything."

L shot me a meaningful look. "I'm sending you to bed," he reiterated. "And for security's sake, I will be accompanying you."

"I heard you the first time," I huffed.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Do I need to spell it out for you?" One arm darted out and snaked around my waist, and I was rendered momentarily speechless at his blatant display of affection. He'd certainly succeeded in horrifying the successors—Mello's features were twisted in disgust, Near was pointedly not looking at us, and Matt was determinedly staring at the screen of his Gameboy. "Well?" L urged, fingers digging into my side. "Do you understand?"

"Oh." I understood. " _Oh._ "

L offered me his arm. "We should retire. It is late."

"Ah… yeah," I agreed. "Yeah, we should."

I looped my arm through L's, and he tugged me away with a smile.

 **This one was a blast to write. And I do mean write, not just edit. Originally this chapter was only** _ **three**_ **pages, so I had my work cut out for me reworking it! I have no idea what I was thinking when I originally wrote it. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and leave me a review if you did. I'll be back on Thursday with another chapter! And in the next chapter, as I've been saying for a while, the M rating goes into effect. So be ready for that!**


	8. Dark River

**Welcome to chapter eight! I completely forgot to thank the reviewers in the last chapter, and now I feel bad… so thank you** _ **so**_ **much if you reviewed, and even if you just read the latest chapter. It's really awesome reading your feedback, and its good to know that people appreciate all the work that goes into this story.**

 **Warning: in this chapter, there is a lemon. It's moderately short, but it's still a lemon, so don't say I didn't warn you. There's going to be a hell of a lot more of them in the next two to three chapters. You have been warned.**

 **Chapter 8: Dark River**

By two in the afternoon, four days later, we still had no leads on where Beyond was or what he was doing. All we had to go off of were his murders. And the murders were becoming… disturbing. Beyond was using his power in ways I'd never seen before. He'd gone from killing randomly to spelling out my name over and over again without rest—and he was becoming increasingly creative in how he was spelling it out. Some of his victims were smearing my name on the walls with the blood they coaxed from their slit wrists. One had carved my name into another man's stomach before slitting his own wide open. Another used gasoline to spell it out before lighting it on fire. It had been the size of a football field. But Beyond was being careful—he never used my last name, so the authorities never had any proof that it was really a name. For all they knew it could just be another act of insanity. To spare my father's mind, the fact that this was happening was being hidden from him. He had no idea that Beyond's obsession had reached this level. The successors and L, however, knew all too well where all of it was headed. They were watching me like a hawk, refusing to leave me alone. Near had even volunteered to watch us while we slept to assure neither of us vanished—though we had turned him down.

While we were floundering about, snatching at shadows, Soichiro took control of the Yotsuba case. He'd used L's resources to have cameras set up all over Yotsuba Corp, and it had paid off. On the very first weekend after the installation of the cameras, the Yotsuba Board of Directors met, and the task force discovered that just as we'd believed, Kira was a member of the Board. Most likely Higuchi, L and I agreed. Upon the discovery that Kira was among the board members, my father very strongly advocated for the arrest of every one of them. But of course, L wasn't satisfied with just that—he wanted to wait until he could discover Kira's method of killing. But my father, being the advocator for justice that he was, insisted upon capturing Kira immediately, before any more lives could be lost. He was only dissuaded by my quick thinking and a risky phone call. It bought us some time to figure out who Kira was and track down Beyond.

But until one of the two Kiras messed up and revealed themselves, all we could do was stumble about after them and watch the footage.

†††

"I didn't expect the task force to catch on to Yotsuba this fast," Beyond sighed to himself as he crouched on the Yotsuba Corp rooftop. "I'd hoped that the idiots would be able to handle being Kira for a little while longer, and give me a little more time to capture Light. It's too bad I haven't managed to get my hands on him yet—although, that party was quite the temptation! But not to worry, I'll have him soon enough. In the meantime, I suppose I should get this over with." Beyond looked down at the photograph in his hand. Kyosuke Higuchi. Kira. The one who had killed on such an easy pattern, and only to benefit Yotsuba. "I'd hoped that he would make tracking him down just a _little_ harder. It's obvious that he isn't nearly as intelligent as me." _Or Light._ Beyond grinned at the thought of the caramel-haired teen. He felt a jolt of anticipation as he thought of the fact that after tonight he would have a second Death Note—and that meant that his god would soon regain his memories, and with any luck, agree to work with him to take down L. His teeth glinted in the moonlight. After this, it would be almost too easy to break L. All he had to do was flaunt Kira around in front of him, memories completely regained, and the raven-haired detective would shatter. He would go insane in his attempts to rescue Kira from himself. It was all too good!

That was why he was here, at Yotsuba Corp. He was going to kill Higuchi. Tonight. Now. He would take possession of the second Death Note, and he would give it to Light once he was in his custody. Beyond grinned at the thought of the newly in love Light regaining every scrap of memory from his time as Kira. He imagined the horror, the pain, the… _agony._ It would be _exquisite_. It would be the final nudge that would push the younger Yagami over the edge, and bring Kira to the forefront of his mind for Beyond to play with.

Beyond moved across the rooftop, eyes cast downwards in a search for the access hatch. Upon finding it, he dropped to his knees and smashed the lock with the hilt of his knife. It was old and rusted, clearly ill maintained. All the better for him. He slipped through the hatch with ease, leaving it blatantly open behind him. Now… Beyond flipped Higuchi's photograph over and squinted at the words scribbled on the back. "Let's see here… one floor down from here, first office to the right after exiting the elevator." Shoving the picture in his back pocket, Beyond strolled off down the hall towards the elevator. He'd looked over the schematics of the building ahead of time and memorized all the important stuff so he wouldn't end up getting trapped. Oh, no, he wasn't _concerned_ about such a thing _—_ but it was always better to be safe than sorry. On the off chance that L managed to catch on to what he was doing, Beyond wanted multiple escape routes. Thus, he knew the exact location of every elevator door, every stairwell, every fire escape. And there just happened to be an elevator door a few hallways from here.

As Beyond walked, security cameras swung in his direction, as if seeking him out. He didn't bother to hide his face—why should he? He wanted L to see what happened here, after all. The murderer stepped into the elevator casually. There were no employees around; it was very late. But even if there had been employees, Beyond knew that they would have been too stupid to realize that there was a murderer walking among them.

The elevator whirred quietly for a few moments, then dinged. The doors opened, and Beyond immediately headed to the right. Several feet away from the elevator resided the door he was seeking. Large, dull blue, with a gold painted handle. A plaque was hung up on the door with Higuchi's name sprawled across it in block letters. Oh yes, this was the right place. Beyond threw open the door without hesitation, knowing that on this particular day, Higuchi had chosen to stay quite late in order to finish some paperwork. He should be here, and alone.

Higuchi looked up the instant the door opened. His beady eyes widened in surprise, and a pen slipped from his fingers. His notebook was on his desk, flipped open to a mostly filled page. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, trying and failing to sound threatening. He shot to his feet, snapping, "Identify yourself or I'm calling security!" He reached for the phone.

Beyond grinned, stalking forward, twirling his knife between his fingers. "You haven't noticed? Your phone hasn't made a noise all day… the line has been _cut,_ Kyosuke Higuchi." As he spoke Beyond inched closer and closer, examining the so-called Kira through slit eyes. So… this was the man that would call himself a god. He wasn't much to look at, just like his picture entailed. Square jaw, droopy eyes, leering nastily even though he must have been scared. Beyond felt bubbles of rage in his throat. How dare he? How dare this man, this _flawed, hideous_ man call himself Kira? He was not Kira, he was not a god! He was an imposter. An _imposter!_ The knife jabbed out to point at Higuchi.

Higuchi eyed the knife and immediately backed away, reaching back for the pen he'd dropped and angling it towards the Death Note. There was a name half written on one of the lines. He must have been in the middle of using it when Beyond burst in. "What's your name, son?"

He cackled. "Sorry, _imposter_ , but you won't be getting my name. You see, I don't want to be killed. But I could kill you." In demonstration, Beyond removed his notebook from where he'd tucked it beneath his shirt. He'd made a habit of keeping the thing on him at all times, just in case something came up.

Higuchi's eyes went wide. "Is—is that…?"

"The Death Note you're so fond of, yes. I could write your name right here and now, perhaps control your actions for a bit. But I won't. Do you want to know why, imposter?"

The man didn't even try to deny the accusation. His fingers twitched nervously, the pen barely remaining in his grasp. "Not particularly, kid."

Beyond clapped his hands together excitedly, announcing, "Because I want to do it myself! You see, it took me all of a day to figure out who you were and what your motives were. I'd hoped that I could leave you alone until I captured the _real_ Kira, and that you'd continue to evade the people hunting you until the time was right. However, your idiotic mind has landed you directly in their line of fire. They're coming for you, imposter. And if they get you, then they'll force you into revealing the Death Note and how to use it. And if _that_ happens, L will kill me using it in a heartbeat, just to save his precious Light." He inched closer to his terrified victim one step at a time, well aware of how ready Higuchi was to lash out at a moment's notice. Beyond continued, "I don't want to die just yet. So I need to kill you. And you've made my life so much more _difficult_ by being such a _moron…"_ Beyond was standing inches from the terrified man. Despite how horrified Higuchi must have been, to his credit, he wasn't panicking. He was completely still—although, Beyond figured, he might have just been frozen by his own fear. Amused, Beyond reached out with his knife and traced it up Higuchi's cheek. A line of red appeared. "…So I'd like to blow off a little steam with you."

At this point Higuchi finally seemed to come to his senses, lashing out blindly at Beyond. His fist glanced off the murderer's shoulder weakly. Beyond laughed. "Is that the best you can do?" he snarled, sweeping a leg out and sending Higuchi sprawling to the floor. The man was on his feet again immediately, this time snatching a stapler off he desk and using it as a projectile. Beyond dodged it with ease and continued towards him. A paperweight was chucked his way, and that too was avoided.

Beyond darted forward and clasped a hand around Higuchi's wrist to stop the punch he was about to throw. The other hand darted down to catch the kick directed at his groin. The man was utterly helpless. Beyond reached up and clenched his fingers around Higuchi's throat, pushing him into the wall with a dark chuckle.

"I don't have the patience for your futile resistance," Beyond snarled, raising the knife. Another line of red appeared. Another. Another. Blood dripped down his face with each new cut, splattering and crusting the tips of his obsidian hair. He grinned, lapping the blood from the blade of his knife like a cat. "Mmm…" he purred. "Delicious." His grin only widened at the look of horror on Higuchi's face. "Please," he whispered, "Scream. I want to hear you _scream."_ He jabbed the knife harshly into Higuchi's shoulder, ripping a cry from him. "Good… now do it again."

 _Stab!_

"Again!"

 _Stab!_

" _Again!"_

 _Stab!_

"Please!" Higuchi screeched. "Please, stop this!" Scarlet liquid had soaked his white shirt in large, sickening patches, beginning to dribble to the waistband of his pants.

Beyond twisted his knife violently, prompting another scream. "Stop? Now, why would I do that?" His expression turned feral. "You're still alive, after all…"

Higuchi barely had time to register the statement before the knife came back down, splattering blood across Beyond's shirt and face. The monster laughed, teeth flecked with red, glaring into the imposter's eyes with the promise of hell gleaming within.

†††

Hours later, Beyond tucked his knife back in his belt, grabbed the Death Note, and strode from the room, slipping the door shut behind him.

†††

"Oh god," Soichiro whispered, eyes glued to the report on the screen of his computer. "L… look at this."

Both L and I moved to stare over the chief's shoulder. The sight that met us was revolting.

The body of the man we had presumed as Kira was mutilated. If it hadn't been for the caption— _President of Yotsuba Corp Murdered in Random Act of Brutality—_ then I would never have known it was him. The body was covered in blood; I couldn't locate a spot on him that wasn't painted red. His clothing was completely missing, there were slash marks up and down his arms and chest, there was bruising around his neck… the list went on. I forced myself to turn away with I noticed several missing fingers and a severed ear. I nearly gagged at the horrific nature of it all. Was this… to be my fate? Would Beyond take a knife to me in a similar fashion?

"Amazing," L whispered, though I could tell he was shaken. "He even gouged out the eyes and tongue…"

That time I really did gag, as did several other members of the task force. L and his successors were the only ones that maintained their outward cool. "Ryuzaki," I spluttered, once again nearly forgetting to call him by his pseudonym. "You don't think it was… him?"

"I have no doubt that this murder was committed by Beyond," he said smoothly. He pointed to the lower part of the report, a section I hadn't read. "The report mentions the security cameras—Beyond made no attempt to erase or edit them. He shows his face multiple times, and while the authorities have no record of this man in their systems and therefore cannot hunt him down, I know him well." L pointed to a slightly blurry photograph. I leaned closer, both eager and unwilling to know what my pursuer looked like.

" _That's_ Beyond?" Matsuda asked dumbly. "Ryuzaki, he looks almost exactly like you!"

He was right. L had described Beyond to me in detail, telling me that they were almost twins. But I'd had a hard time believing it—L looked so unique, I didn't think anyone else could look anything like him. Clearly, though I was wrong. Just as L had described, Beyond was nearly a carbon copy—but like a poorly done forgery of a priceless painting, there was something _off_ about him. However, I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. It was strange—I was certain that if you put L and Beyond back to back, I'd be able to tell the difference without a question. But if I were asked, I didn't think I'd be able to verbalize the difference. It was almost psychological, as if their different ways of thinking translated into some, unidentifiable physical feature.

"It is an unfortunate resemblance," L murmured.

"Why did he kill Kira?" Mogi questioned. "Shouldn't he be happy that someone is helping him out by killing people?"

"No," Near chimed in thoughtfully. I jumped, not having realized that the boy was standing on his toes in an attempt to look over my shoulder. "Beyond and Kira do not share the same goal. Kira—or at least, Yotsuba Kira, merely wanted to help his company grow. Beyond, on the other hand, just seems to want Light. And what's more, if Beyond does have a way to monitor us, then he would have known we were about to go after the Yotsuba Board of Directors. That would have been a problem for him, seeing as if we had managed to capture Kira, we would have discovered his method of killing. After that, finding Beyond would have been much easier. It was in his own best interests to kill Higuchi."

"Of course," L murmured. "It's so simple, it's almost embarrassing."

Soichiro dropped his head into his hands. "This means that we once again have no leads," he noted bitterly.

"An unfortunate situation to say the least." L bit at his thumb. "Successors, do you have any ideas?"

I half expected Near to come up with some grand scheme, seeing as his intelligence had solved more than one mystery already. But he just shook his head blankly. Matt and Mello wielded no results as well, each of them looking just as stumped.

"Face it, L," Mello muttered. Even _he_ looked discouraged. "If Beyond doesn't want to be caught, he's not going to be caught. That's all there is to it. All we can do is wait."

"I refuse to accept that," L responded. His voice was even, but his anger was painfully obvious. "We _can_ do something more, and I intend to figure it out."

Matt bowed his head, looking sorry for the stressed detective. "Then what should we do next? We've been chasing a shadow for days, and I for one don't see a next logical course of action."

"Check everything again," L ordered, a slight tremor running through his voice. "We missed something. I _know_ we missed something. A pattern, a clue… anything!" His voice rose in volume steadily until he was nearly yelling.

"L…" Matt's voice was soft, almost pitying.

L immediately turned away, unwilling to let anyone see his anger. "I," he rasped, "have solved every case I've ever accepted. This one will be no different." He turned up the brightness on his computer until it was near blinding in the dim room, leaning into it as if it were his only comfort. He reached one hand out to scroll through the document he was working on, dropping the other one to rest on his knee. I threw a glance over my shoulder to make sure the task force wasn't watching. Then I discreetly reached out and laced our fingers together, rolling my chair slightly closer so no one who looked over at us would see. L threw me a grateful glance, giving my hand a light squeeze.

We remained that way throughout the rest of the day, until late at night, L rose silently, leaving the successors to work, and guided me to our room.

†††

The instant we reached our room, L's lips were on mine. Also the same instant we reached our room, my arms wound around his waist, and his darted up to tangle in my hair. This had become normal in the past few days—normal to the point of L lying to the task force just so he could duck into the kitchen to kiss me senseless. I suspected that the task force might have been beginning to suspect something—after all, L had been taking an awful lot of breaks as of late, and all of them were far longer than they should have been. I also suspected that the successors weren't fooled by L's excuses in the least. Every time L announced that he was taking a short break, the successors exchanged a series of exasperated glances.

"Stop thinking," L murmured against my lips, and I knew I must have been spacing out. His fingers twisted in my hair, tugging my head back so I was forced to look him in the eyes.

"Stop thinking?" I echoed in amusement, letting out a soft gasp as L turned his wicked mouth on the juncture between shoulder and neck. "That doesn't sound like you, L…"

"Maybe I want to forget for a while," he responded in between long pulls on my neck. There would be a mark, I knew. But that too was becoming normal—in the past four days, L had successfully marred near every inch of the flesh covering my neck and shoulders, even going as far as to take his teeth to choice sections of my chest. But despite the level of marking I'd endured, L had yet to dip any lower than my stomach—I could tell he wanted to, could feel it in the way he touched me, but he hadn't dared. "Maybe I want to forget," he repeated himself, hands going to my jaw, holding my head in place as he thrust his tongue past my lips, taking full advantage of my vulnerable position. There was a light tug on my collar, and I knew that L had turned his attention on unbuttoning my shirt. This, too, was common practice between us now.

L drew away for a moment, and I saw that his features were relaxed, lips curved upwards in a smile. But his eyes—his eyes were different. They were half-lidded, clouded… lustful. I'd never seen him look quite like that before, not even after the most intense of our little sessions. L's fingers twisted in the collar of my shirt, which now hung completely open, revealing every mark, every scratch from the past four days. L made use of my collar to push me against the wall as his lips crashed back against mine in a harsh, heated kiss. I groaned as his knee came up to rub at the space between my legs, and immediately I could feel all the blood rushing to one very specific point in my body.

"L!" I gasped. "What are you—?"

He growled, gripping me by the shoulders and walking us towards the bed. One shove had me sprawled on my back, gazing up at him in anticipation. This… seemed different than all the other times _. L_ seemed different. His eyes were glazed as he threw himself onto the bed, straddling me as his tongue found its way back into my mouth. Only when my lungs ached for breath did he pull away, instead moving his mouth down to lap at the side of my neck, sending shivers through me as he passed over all his previous marks. I turned my head away, making the flesh more accessible to his probing tongue. L hummed his appreciation as his hands returned to my shirt. Swift fingers slipped my arms from the sleeves, prying the shirt from my body and unlocking the handcuffs in order to throw it away from us. The cuffs didn't go back on.

His hands undid the latch at my belt. "Hey," I protested, half jokingly. "What's with the sudden enthusiasm?"

He didn't even slow his actions, popping the button of my pants open and pulling the zipper down. "I've realized something," he said, voice low.

"Hmm?" I murmured, distracted by the way L had hooked his thumbs into my belt loops, by the way he was tugging at them slowly, as to still give me time to stop him.

"I've realized that we have no idea how much time we have left…" He paused his movements in favor of kissing me again in that slow, passionate way. "…And yet I've been allowing you to stay beside me, completely pure and untouched, despite the attraction we obviously share. I've been _holding back_. But you don't _want_ me to hold back, do you? I've been wasting days doing nothing but kissing you when I could be doing _so much more…_ " He drew back, staring me in the eyes. "Isn't that right, Light?" I knew he was asking, as he'd asked me many times before, _is this okay?_

And as always, I nodded breathlessly, drawing him in for a short kiss. "If that's the case, then why am I the only one being stripped?" I protested, yanking at the bottom of his shirt. He grinned toothily, hands going to his shirt and stripping it from his own form. It went to join mine on the floor before he returned his hands to my belt. He had it off in a heartbeat, and was back to tugging impatiently at the belt loops. I raised my hips to aid him in sliding my slacks off my body, leaving me in nothing but my black boxers. Once again noticing the imbalance in our state of dress, I pulled at his jeans. They came off with ease, and immediately a blush painted itself across my face when I realized that he wasn't wearing anything beneath.

"Really?" I asked, fighting the warmth in my cheeks. "No boxers?"

"What?" He asked, a knowing grin on his face. "I find them impractical."

"Of course you do," I laughed, rolling my eyes. I reached down and gripped the waistband of my boxers, yanking them off myself in one, smooth motion.

L pouted. "I wanted to do that."

I grinned up at him, eyes half-lidded. "I'm sorry, would you like me to put them back on just so you can remove them again?"

His eyes flashed. "No," he murmured silkily, lips returning to my neck. "I am _very_ against you being clothed at the moment." He pulled my mouth open with his thumb before plunging his tongue inside, setting my blood alight. The hand that wasn't grasping my face palmed over my chest, pinching a sensitive nipple between two fingers. I writhed weakly as a gasp was drawn from my slightly swollen lips at the jolt of arousal sent straight between my legs. As I lay beneath L, his hands, lips, and teeth invoking these sinful reactions within me, I dimly thought that this was the last thing I should be doing. Especially with the task force just a few floors away, and my life on the line. And, of course, the fact that Beyond was quite possibly watching all of us through the security cameras. But somehow, as L's hand slid down my chest and stomach to grip my arousal, it didn't seem to matter.

 _To hell with it,_ I thought, lacing my fingers through L's hair and pulling him into yet another heated kiss. _If I'm going to die, I'm at least going to go out knowing that I gave L this, at least._

A sudden jolt of pleasure brought me back to present time. L's lips were attacking mine as he pumped his hand up and down over my arousal, each stroke increasing in speed and pressure.

"L!" I gasped, feeling pressure building deep within me. "If you keep that up—!"

He hummed against my mouth, pausing his motions to run his thumb over the head of my cock. The action sent a pleasant thrill running up my spine, and once again I didn't seem to be able to control my own actions as I arched up into L's touch. "Light…" he whispered, stroking up and down, but not quite resuming the mind blowing pace he'd set mere moments ago. "My Light…" He pressed his lips lightly to the center of my throat, and the near-gentleness reminded me of that second night, the night in which we'd exchanged nothing but soft, chaste kisses. But this was definitely nothing like that night, I reflected, as L's lips moved an inch lower and repeated the kiss, this time with more passion. Just an inch lower I felt his lips again, accompanied by the barest touch of his tongue to my skin. I barely concealed a moan as the detective moved another inch lower, then another, and another, each time growing just a little bit more passionate, biting just a little bit harder. There would be a trail of marks, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to care. All that mattered was L.

I felt him pause, breath rolling across the flesh just below my navel. "L?" I murmured, wanting to ask him what he was doing, but unable to form a full sentence.

In response I received a near predatory grin. His hands sealed over my hips, holding me down, and the next moment I felt L's lips on the head of my cock, pressing lightly, teasingly. A moan wrenched itself from my lips, seemingly against my will, as a surge of pleasure coursed through me. L's eyes stayed locked on my face as he repeated the action, this time flicking his tongue out for just a moment, just enough to be completely maddening.

"You're such a tease," I accused him breathlessly, straining against his hold.

"Am I?" he asked with a smirk. "We'll just have to fix that, then..." Still grinning, he leaned down and wrapped his lips around just the head, swirling his tongue over me, tightening his lips. I let out a sharp gasp as I felt him take me just a bit deeper, suck just a little bit harder. He was moving maddeningly slow, applying just enough pressure to drive me insane. His fingers dug into my hips as I bucked up against him in an attempt to get him to move faster. "Now, now," he chastised, pulling away slightly. "Behave yourself, Light." He didn't wait for my response. Instead he dipped his head once more, taking me into his mouth for a second time, this time sinking his lips down as far as he could. He paused for a heartbeat as the head of my cock brushed the back of his throat, no doubt trying to familiarize himself with the sensation. As he paused, his tongue laved up and down my arousal generously. He sucked hard, and I felt the pool of heat low in my stomach grow.

"L!" I whined, reaching out and tangling my fingers in his hair. "Please—!"

He hummed, sending tiny bolts of pleasure up my spine. Then, slowly be pulled off me until his lips were sealed only over the head. Just as slowly, he slid his lips back down until he could go no further. He repeated the process, this time slightly faster. Then he repeated it again, and again, each time growing more and more sure of himself, more and more confident. With every thrust he wrapped his tongue around me further, tightened his lips more, sucked me harder. It didn't take long for him to relax his throat, letting me penetrate his mouth to the fullest extent. That coil of arousal grew with every motion L made, with every lap of his tongue and every deep, insistent suck. I felt myself coming to my end. And then L hummed again, sending vibrations tingling through me, and I thought for sure that I would die right then and there if I didn't reach completion. I let out a long moan as I felt myself reaching my limit. Just a second more, a moment longer, and—

L halted his motions completely, drawing away with a wet, vulgar sound.

"What're you doing?" I slurred, convinced I would loose my mind if L didn't continue. "Why'd you stop?"

L's hands left my hips as he raised them to once again palm over my chest, rolling my hardened nipples between his fingers. "I can't have you finish too early, now, can I?" he murmured.

I had half a mind to throw him off me then and there, to reach down and coax myself to completion—but the mind blowing kiss L had just instituted was enough to keep me preoccupied, if only for a moment.

I let out a soft whimper as L broke contact without warning. He crawled off me suddenly and bent to open a drawer in his nightstand. He growled in irritation as whatever he sought evaded him, then made a content noise as he triumphantly pulled something out of the drawer and slammed it shut. He was back on top of me before I had a chance to ask him what he was up to. He straddled my waist and fiddled with what he had removed from the drawer. I heard the soft click as a cap was opened, and for a moment my mind went blank. It didn't take a genius to figure out what L was holding. L squirted some of the clear liquid onto two fingers, holding his hand up so I could see what he was doing.

"Is this okay?" he repeated his earlier words softly, his lips brushing my ear.

I was caught in an internal conflict for a moment—one part of me wanting to beg L to continue, and the other part warning me about the pain of what was about to happen, the humiliation. But before I could dwell too hard on the immanent pain, I smiled at L confidently and gave him a short nod. "It's more than okay."

L shot me an adoring look, then pushed a slickened finger against my entrance. I barely had time to register the slight nip of pain before the finger was pushing in. I gasped in a mix of pain and pleasure as L moved that finger back and forth. It didn't take long before L, deciding I was ready, pushed in a second finger, then a third a few moments later. His fingers prodded and stretched me open, the actions producing a dull burn. L's face contorted slightly as he began curving his fingers slightly at different angles every time he pushed back in. A few attempts later L found what he was looking for. The tip of one his fingers brushed tantalizingly against something deep inside of me, igniting my senses as an almost painful jolt of pleasure shook my body. I moaned before I could stop myself, pushing myself further onto L's fingers. Upon hearing my breathless sounds he drew back to gaze at me, lips slightly parted as he watched my reaction. He seemed to like whatever he saw in my eyes, for he chuckled, purring out,

"You like that, don't you, Light?"

He jabbed his fingers back against that pleasurable spot, and my vision turned white. When his free hand returned to my arousal, I thought I was going to pass out. "L!" I moaned. "Please!"

He looked up at me innocently. "I'm sorry, Light, but what do you mean by that?"

I hissed at him, slightly irritated. "You've done enough _preparing_."

He leaned in until his face was mere inches from mine. Both hands had stopped their movement. "Does my Light want something? All you need to do is ask…"

The bastard was really going to make me say it. I reached up a hand to grasp his collar, pulling him in for a brief kiss. "I want you to _take me_ , L," I snarled, burying the remaining shreds of my dignity. "Stop teasing and give me what I want!"

His eyes were glazed with lust. "If that is what my Light desires…" He was squirting more of the clear liquid onto his hands now. He stroked himself a few times until he was sufficiently lubricated, then positioned himself at my entrance. "It will hurt, Light."

"I don't care," I breathed. My hands wrapped around his neck, legs hooked over his hips as he bent over me. "Do it."

And just like that, he was pushing in. His eyes were locked onto my face, constantly watching for any sign of discomfort as he slid further and further into my pliant body. I was sure that there was pain, but the pure pleasure of being so close to L overwhelmed all but a few pricks of it. When he was fully inside, hips flush with mine, he paused to gauge my reaction. "Light?"

I tugged him down, littering light kisses all over his face and chest in reassurance, despite the small flickers of pain lacing up my spine. For a heartbeat the both of us stayed perfectly still—me in an attempt to quell the pricks of pain, him in an effort to stop from hurting me. I dipped his head, pressing his forehead to mind, and I could feel the blood rushing beneath his skin, the heat of the restraint he was trying so hard to maintain. He wouldn't last long this way, I knew. So in a breathless tone, I tilted my head up to brush our lips together. "Move," I whispered.

He complied. L locked his lips to mine in earnest as he began to thrust, slowly at first, then more and more swiftly as his restraint failed him. At some point in his passionate display, the pricks of pain were chased away, and a warm feeling of pleasure replaced it. It wasn't long before I was raising my hips to meet L with every thrust, panting and moaning his name. And then L struck that same spot, _harshly_ , and I almost screamed. A grin danced across L's lips as he realized what had happened, and he repeated the action again, striking that same area again and again until he was able to hit it precisely with every snap of his hips.

"L, please—!" I begged.

The smile didn't drop off his face as he reached a hand down to grasp my cock. He stroked me in time with his thrusts, latching his teeth onto my neck at the same time. I gasped at the sensory overload assaulting me. "I'm going to—!" I warned.

"Then come," he murmured heatedly, giving me a particularly harsh thrust. I held out for a few more moments, a coil of heat building within me, then cried out as I came, spatters of white dirtying L's stomach and my own. My own release must have brought L to his, for it was only a few more insistent thrusts before he buried himself deep within me, and came with a moan.

"Light!" He held himself in place for a moment more before giving out and collapsing onto my chest. For a moment we just lay there, chests rising and falling in unison, lips parted slightly. L's arms were curled around my shoulders, mine draped around his waist. It wasn't until a few minutes later, when my breath had evened slightly, when I finally spoke.

"L…" I whined. "Pull out…"

"Just a minute longer," he murmured, his nose brushing the skin of my neck.

I moaned painfully; my back was already aching, and I was sure I'd be in hellish pain later. But it had been worth it… oh yes; it had been _very_ worth it. Another moan was drawn from my lips as L lifted himself slightly and pulled out very, very slowly. The sensation left flickers of pleasure in its wake. "L…" I whimpered.

"Shh…" He rolled off me, immediately crushing me to his chest. My back was suddenly flush with his dirtied chest, his spent cock grinding into me from behind.

"I should clean up," I protested weakly.

"Sleep first," L insisted, tongue lapping at my neck lovingly. "Clean later."

I was too exhausted to disagree. So instead I turned my head and offered my lips to L. He chuckled lightly, offering me a soft kiss, before draping an arm across my chest and leaving it there. A few heartbeats later his breathing evened out, and he was out like a light. I found amusement in that, even through my swiftly clouding mind.

 _Hmm…_ I thought as my consciousness faded. _I guess even_ he _can get tired…_

†††

Beyond lounged back in his chair, his laptop open before him, displaying L and Light's room. He supposed any decent person would have turned the video feed off after their clothes has come off—but then again, Beyond wasn't a decent person.

When it was all over, and L and Light were fast asleep in each other's arms, he shut the lid of his laptop and turned to Ryuk. "Now is the time," he told the shinigami with a cold smile. "Ryuk, I will be going out for a few hours. I expect to return with the Yagami boy before dawn."

The shinigami cackled. "You saw how they're sleeping; curled around each other. How are you going to separate them without waking L up?"

Beyond bent down and snatched his shoulder bag. He reached inside and rifled through the contents, giving a satisfied grin when he found exactly what he needed. "That's a secret." He stalked over to the door and opened it, crossing the threshold halfway before turning back to Ryuk. "I'd like you to get a few things ready for me, if you don't mind."

Ryuk tilted his head to one side curiously. "Oh, and what's that?"

The murderer pressed a finger to his lips. "Listen very carefully, Ryuk. Here's what I need you to do…"

†††

Beyond stood outside the task force headquarters, head tilted backwards to stake in the full height of the building. _L did a good job,_ he reflected. _If I weren't a genius_ _then I probably wouldn't be able to get in._ He knew from the security cameras that L's room was up on the highest floor, and that Near, Mello, and Matt's rooms were right next to his. And as fate would have it, Watari's monitoring room was just a few doors down. _Good. All of my problems are in one place._ _This is going to be embarrassingly simple…_ Beyond's eyes darted upwards as a gust of air swept over him. "Ryuk," he greeted as the shinigami appeared, hovering over his head. "It is done?"

Ryuk nodded with a grin. "Everything is set up just the way you want. I just flew over here to watch the show!"

Beyond nodded. "Very well. Just don't do anything that would jeopardize the mission." He looked back up to the top of the building.

"So what's the plan?" Ryuk asked eagerly.

"You're going to fly me up to the roof, and I'm going to get in the same way I got into the Yotsuba building."

"What?" the shinigami whined. "Come on, why do _I_ have to do it?"

"Because it'll make things more interesting."

"You already _said_ that! You said that when I set up the cameras, and nothing's happened since!"

"Something's happening _now,_ you dolt!" Beyond snapped angrily. "So fly me up to the roof!"

Ryuk looked highly displeased, but Beyond had no doubt that he would obey. After all, the shinigami was curious to a fault—he wouldn't be able to resist seeing what was going to happen.

"Come on," Beyond ordered when the shinigami was too slow in agreeing. "If you wait all night, I won't have time to go through with it!"

There was only a brief pause before Ryuk finally grumbled, "Fine, fine. But you owe me for this, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I owe you more apples…"

Ryuk shot the dark-haired murderer a toothy grin. "You guessed it." He reached out an arm, allowing Beyond to grab hold of it. "Don't fall!" he advised. "It's not my job to catch you, you know."

Beyond opened his mouth to shoot back a scathing reply, but before he could, Ryuk shot up into the air. For the few moments the journey lasted, Beyond was almost convinced that all the air had been sucked from his lungs. For all the few weeks he'd known him, Ryuk had always moved at a slow, leisurely pace. But now he moved impossibly fast, darting upwards on swift wings. Before he knew it, he was being dropped rather harshly onto the roof. The breath was forcibly removed from his lungs as he landed on his back.

"Ryuk…" Beyond growled irritably.

"What?" he asked innocently.

Beyond pushed himself to his feet with a groan, testing his jarred muscles to make sure nothing was out of place. He adjusted his shoulder bag and spun around, searching for the door that would lead him inside.

 _There it is._ Beyond stomped noisily over to the door. It was locked, quite foolishly, from the outside, and with a shiny new padlock. Good, this was good! A lock he could deal with. He pulled his set of lockpicks from his bag and set to work on the lock. He was appalled when it clicked away so easily—had they really thought this would keep him out? No, they probably figured that he would never try the roof in the first place. After all, it was only accessible by one of two ways—from the inside, or with the power of flight. Beyond shoved the door open and peered inside. There was a long, dark hallway leading away from the door, with doors lining the hall on either side. He wasn't yet close to where L and Light resided—though, from here, he wouldn't have to worry about being on the right floor. A soft, electronic sound drew Beyond's attention to the security cameras lining the walls. They were everywhere, he noticed with distaste. No matter, he could dodge them with a little effort.

Beyond moved silently down the halls, ducking into rooms whenever a camera moved its muzzle towards him. It didn't take long until he reached Watari's monitoring station. The old fool was staying a few doors over from L. Beyond reached into his bag and pulled out a towel, which he shoved against the bottom of the door. Next he pulled out a small canister and punctured it, slipping the muzzle under the door. He waited until he heard the telltale thud of the old man collapsing, then moved on. He repeated the process with Near, Matt, and Mello. All too soon, his prize was the only one left to knock out. Though, of course, he wanted to have a bit of fun first.

Beyond slipped into their room undetected. The fingerprint scanner had been a problem, but he had simply dragged Watari's body to the door and used him as a key. After he'd done it he supposed that he should have just cut off a finger, but in his excitement he hadn't been thinking too clearly. Beyond slowly moved to the bed, drugged rag in hand. He took a moment to observe the sleeping forms of the two beings. They truly were adorable, he thought—curled around each other so thoroughly that he almost couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. He gazed down at Light's beautiful face, his hair resting around his head like an amber halo. He was god-like. Stunning. It was almost a shame to bring harm to such a perfect being. _Almost_.

Beyond moved his gaze to L. His eyes raked up and down over the detective in a way that might have seemed loving, had he not been a psychopath. As Beyond leaned forward, he felt the knife tucked into his belt press into his side. Oh, it was so tempting to just lean down and slit his throat… but no. That would be too easy, he knew. L had to _suffer_ for what he had done—for rejecting him all that time ago, for siding with A, for thwarting him in LA and throwing him in jail. For trying to keep him away from Light. Beyond had done oh so many things in his attempts to pay L back for everything he'd done. He'd even gotten his hands on Mello for a few days at one point. He'd made some good progress too, until L came bursting in and ruined everything. He'd barely escaped with his life. It wasn't a mistake he intended to repeat. This time, he had everything planned out.

Beyond offered L one last glance before leaning down and sealing the drugged rag over his nose and mouth. After a few long moments to make sure the detective was properly knocked out, the murderer gave his form a sharp tug, disengaging him from Light in a heartbeat. He tossed L carelessly against the wall, where he slid to the ground and didn't move. Light, on the other hand, was awake immediately. Beyond noted with amusement that both L and Light seemed to have pulled boxers and a shirt back on before falling asleep, probably just in case someone walked in to wake them up. Well, that was no fun… Beyond would just have to undress Light again. The murderer chuckled, twirling his knife between his fingers. This was going to be a _lot_ of fun…

†††

I awoke to the sensation of L's body being wrenched from mine, and the sound of him hitting the wall. I was on my feet in a heartbeat, terror jolting through me as I searched for whoever had pulled us apart. Sleep was gone from my mind faster than light as my eyes flitted around the room. It was then that I saw him… Beyond Birthday. He stood mere feet from me with a savage grin on his face. A knife was clutched in one hand, a large, threatening thing that gleamed menacingly.

"Light Yagami," he greeted, teeth glinting.

"Beyond," I choked, flattening myself against the wall. "How did you get in here?"

"Secret," he purred, stalking closer. As he neared I saw a terrifying glint in his eyes, a hint of madness in the way he watched me. "Don't worry, god!" he whispered, his tone low and dangerous. "I will kill Light Yagami and leave this beautiful body all for you!" He was still advancing. I tried to back up further, but there was nowhere for me to go. I was trapped between the bed, the wall, and Beyond. _Cornered._ The word bounced around in my head. I opened my mouth with the intention of screaming for the successors, but Beyond had a hand over my mouth before I could draw breath. "Now, now," he chastised. "Screaming won't do you any good. Everyone who would hear you has been knocked out cold." My eyes found a rag on the floor beside L, and I knew immediately that he'd been drugged. The successors were probably in no better condition. My stomach twisted and turned nervously, and I was reminded of that horrifying moment right before a massive drop on a roller coaster.

"Aren't you going to drug me too?" I managed to ask, hoping my voice didn't sound too terrified.

He threw his head back and laughed. "No, I'd prefer to do things the old fashioned way with you." His forearm came up to press across my shoulders, pinning me. I knew I should move, try to fight him—but my body had frozen up in terror. His other hand brought the knife up to my face. I felt a brief flash of pain before warm liquid began dripping from the cut he'd made on my cheek. "The cameras haven't been tampered with, by the way," he informed me, tracing the knife along my jawline just lightly enough so that it wouldn't break the skin. "L is going to see every minute of this. He's going to hear you _scream—_ " He lowered the knife to my arm and slashed brutally, the blade slicing through flesh effortlessly. A screech pushed at my teeth, but I managed to hold it back, only letting out a gasp as he crushed me against the wall. "Come now, Light," he whispered as blood dripped from the deep cut, spattering the ground. "Scream for me… make all of those beautiful noises you made for L…"

A blush rose to my cheeks. I hadn't forgotten that he'd been watching every second of my night with L.

"Yes," he purred. "I saw every moment, every expression you made. And I look forward to recreating those expressions…"

My eyes widened. "No, you can't mean—!"

"Oh, but I do," his lips brushed my cheek as he spoke, hot breath rolling across my face. "I told you that I was going to make you scream, Yagami." His tongue darted out to lap at the cut on my cheek. My fists clenched as I struggled to hold down my reaction to the revolting move. "Do you want to know what the worst part about your situation is?" His hands reached for my shirt, dipping beneath the collar.

"Don't," I hissed, voice strangled.

"The worst part about all this is that it's all L's fault," he went on, tugging at my collar. "He was the one who kissed you first, the one who initiated your relationship. If he hadn't done that, then I would have hurt you a little, maybe tortured you for a few days just for my own amusement. But it would have been over soon enough, and I would have given you your memories back. But now, now that I know I can use you to hurt L… there will be no end to the _horrors_ I'll force you to endure. Who knows?" His voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Maybe I'll use my powers to control your actions. I could make you do anything, you know… I could make you _beg_ for me." A hand forced my chin up. "I could make you put on quite a show for L."

"Bastard!" I growled, attempting to hide the fact that my body was completely seized in terror. Something in the back of my mind screamed that something was wrong, that I should be very concerned over Beyond's threat to "return my memories." _But that's insane,_ I reminded myself. _I haven't lost any memories—and even if I had, I doubt very much that Beyond could return them._

"Now, now," he purred, "don't be like that… you don't have to worry. I'd never _dare_ to use my power against _you…_ not against the one, true Kira!"

So even Beyond thought I was Kira. But it wasn't true—it wasn't! "I'm not Kira," I managed through chattering teeth. "Don't you dare call me that, you bastard!"

"Let's not call each other names." Beyond leaned in until his lips were barely brushing mine. I could smell blood on his breath. "You might make me angry, after all…" His lips crushed against mine violently. Through the immediate disgust and horror that rushed through me, I was struck by the realization that this was nothing like kissing L. He had been soft and sweet, passionate and caring. But Beyond… he was stone cold. Harsh. The kiss was more tongue and teeth than anything else, a brutal clash between two beings. Beyond's teeth yanked on my bottom lip, and I felt the skin split and blood drip down my chin. This wasn't pleasurable in the least. It was _painful._

Beyond pulled back just long enough to suck the blood from my skin before latching his lips to my neck. I gasped in disgust, turning my head to one side in an attempt to throw him off. I realized too late that I'd exposed my neck to him.

"So willing," he purred, tongue tracing mindless patterns on my skin. "What would L think if he saw you so ready to submit to me?"

I regained my senses at the thought of L watching the scene and thinking I was giving in. I couldn't— _wouldn't_ let him think that! "I'm not willing!" I snarled, raising both arms and pushing him away violently. The monster staggered backwards by several steps. "You're disgusting!"

His eyes glinted. "You're going to regret that." He advanced on me with the knife raised just over his head. Oh god… he was going to kill me! I had to fight back! I forced my frozen legs to move, lunging at the murderer and punching him in the center of his chest. Unfortunately Beyond had anticipated the move—he dodged out of the way in a blur of movement and slammed his elbow into my back. I crashed to the ground breathlessly. I sensed the knife whirling towards my head, prompting me to roll out of the way and spring to my feet. This time Beyond was caught off guard as I swept my foot out and tripped him. He rolled upon impact and rose immediately.

"A good fighter!" he complimented. He swung his fist towards my face. Instantly I moved to the side, only to feel something connect with my legs and send me crashing into the wall. A sharp jolt of pain shot through my chest, only worsened when Beyond's threw his full weight onto me, his body crushing me into the wall further. "It was moronic of you to fall for such a juvenile trick," he whispered playfully, a Cheshire-like smile on his face. The pressure on my chest increased, and for a heartbeat my world went white. A cry was torn from my bleeding lips.

"There we go!" Beyond cooed. "Finally making some noise, I see!" The pain was becoming agonizing. If I didn't do something, and fast, I was going to black out. I managed to jab an elbow back into Beyond's chest, forcing him to stumble back. I took the opportunity to whirl around and punch him in the face as hard as I could—which unfortunately wasn't very hard seeing as even raising my arm sent pain lacing up my chest. Damn it… I hoped he hadn't cracked a rib. Beyond laughed, teeth bare and bloodied. "It's over!" he cackled. "You can barely raise your arms!"

I knew he was right—I was fighting a losing battle. But I refused to give in. In a last attempt to win, I feigned a kick. When Beyond moved to avoid it, I darted to the side and jammed my fist into his side. But the moment I made contact he whirled around and grabbed me by the wrist. He jerked my arm above my head, pulling a scream from my throat. Beyond grabbed the other wrist and repeated the action. I bit back another cry as his fingers settled against my damaged chest, pressing lightly. "Does it hurt?" he whispered. "It's going to get a whole lot worse, you know." I felt my back hit the wall. The knife came up, tracing a mindless pattern into my bruising flesh. Blood dripped from the shallow cuts, soaking my shirt and falling in droplets to the carpet below. "I would love to play with you all night," he sighed. "But unfortunately, that stuff I hit L with isn't going to last forever. So as disappointing as it is, I think I'll have to end our little fight." He slammed me into the wall brutally, snapping my head back against the plaster. Large, blurry dots covered my vision, and for just a moment I lost grip on reality. My vision cleared just in time for Beyond to slam me back against the wall for a second time. Then he did it again. And again.

Darkness edged my vision as my head struck the wall for the fourth time. I struggled to stay awake, to pull my arms from Beyond's hold—but it was no use. He was too strong for my weakened body. I briefly considered how embarrassing this would be when L watched the footage. Beaten by a wall? Pathetic!

"You're still conscious?" Beyond snarled. He pulled me back one last time, and with his full strength, slammed me against the wall as hard as he could. I felt something in my chest snap, felt my head crack against the wall. That was it—the darkness was taking over, reaching out its arms to me in an inviting embrace. I wanted to turn it away, to escape the darkness—but with every moment I felt myself growing weaker and weaker.

I felt Beyond's grip on me slacken. I managed to hold myself up, but only just. My knees were shaking violently; I could barely feel my legs. I threw one arm back against the wall in an attempt to brace myself. But as a terrible tearing sensation rippled across my skin, I realized that I'd further opened the deep would slashed across my arm—blood spattered the wall, and it was a matter of seconds before I lost my grip due to the slick, scarlet liquid. Beyond was murmuring something to me, saying something, but I couldn't hear it. The only sense I had left was sight—and even that was quickly fading. I whimpered, feeling my legs give out as my whole body went limp. Beyond released me completely, and I was unable to stop myself from sliding to the ground. As my cheek met carpet, I caught one last glimpse of Beyond before my body gave in to the depths of unconsciousness.

He was grinning.

 **This is the end of part one of six. I'm actually really eager to get through the first two parts, because after that is really when the story picks up and you start to get to the main storyline (because believe it or not, we haven't even touched on most of the main elements of the storyline). This early part is my least favorite, but I'm absolutely in love with part four. You'll see why eventually.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and leave a review if you did!**


	9. Outcast

**I'm so excited about this chapter! I love it so much, and I hope you love it too! Anyways, I got quite a lot of reviews on that last chapter, so thanks so much to everyone who left one. It's really awesome to hear some feedback!**

 **There's quite a bit of non-con between Light and Beyond in this chapter. I don't think it's anything you guys haven't been expecting, but I still feel the need to put up a warning.**

 **Chapter 9: Outcast**

Mello awoke suddenly, body jerking up in bed. His head was fuzzy, to his confusion. He felt as if he'd been _drugged._ At that thought, horror flashed through him. Beyond… had he—?

"Matt!" He rolled over and shook the younger male. He too was fast asleep, too far under for it to have been normal. The teen shook his head groggily, turning over.

"L've m' alone…" he groaned. "Sleepy…"

"You've been drugged!" Mello snapped angrily. "Come on, wake the hell up you dolt!"

The words took a moment to register. But when they did, the reaction was immediate. Matt's eyes widened as he sat up. "Drugged?" he repeated, eyes still slightly hazy. "Are you serious?"

"Yes! Now get up, we have to go check on the others!" Mello pulled his boyfriend out of bed, fearing the worst. He seriously doubted that Beyond would go through the trouble of drugging them just to pay L and Light a casual visit. Matt stumbled after him as he pulled him down the hall to Watari's room. His fear grew tenfold when the inventor was nowhere to be found. "Damn!" He tuned and darted the other way towards Near.

"Watari!" Matt gasped, suddenly breaking away from Mello and rushing to the old inventor's side. The man was sprawled out just outside L and Light's room, completely unconscious. He showed no signs of waking up, even when Matt shook him. A swift press of two fingers to his neck told Mello that he was still alive.

"Stay with him," Mello ordered. "I'm going to get Near. Do _not_ go into the room, no matter what you may hear!" Mello stepped over the inventor's body and crashed into Near's room. The white-haired male was just sitting up, rubbing his eyes blearily.

"Ah, Mello!" he greeted. "I appear to have been drugged…" He yawned. "Am I correct in assuming that you were in the same predicament?"

"Watari, Matt, and I were all hit with it," Mello responded. "Hurry up, we need to check on L and Light." He already suspected that Light wouldn't be in the room when they got there. But he had to say it, for the sake of his sanity.

Near seemed to comprehend the severity of the situation immediately, rising and darting out of the room after his blonde-haired companion. Matt had propped Watari up against the wall by the time they arrived. "Come on," he said. "Let's go in there."

Mello nodded, reaching to his belt and pulling out his gun, relieved that he'd had it clipped to his belt when he'd been drugged. He held the gun in front of him and tried the door.

Locked.

Growling, he drew a leg back and kicked the door once, twice, three times… and it burst open. Mello forced his way past the crumpled door, eyes flashing, gun aloft. The sight that greeted him was worse then he'd imagined.

The first thing Mello saw was blood. It was everywhere. There were smears of the stuff across the wall, splatters across the carpet and bed… it was horrifying. Mello didn't want to think about what Beyond had done to spill that much blood. He heard the gasps of the other two successors as they followed him into the room.

"Oh god," Matt whispered. "All that blood—do you think that—?"

"L!" Mello gasped, spotting the detective crumpled against the far wall. He rushed to his side and dropped to one knee, rolling the man onto his back. To his relief, it appeared that none of the blood was his. The only injury the teen could find on him was a lump on the back of his head.

"He's been drugged as well," Near murmured, pulling L's head into his lap. He ran his fingertips delicately over L's skull, eventually coming to a halt over a slightly swollen, painful looking bump. "He sustained a hit to the head," he noted. "Not severe, incredibly unlikely to have caused a concussion. No other physical wounds. Mentally… we have no idea. For all we know he just saw Light die."

"We have to wake him up." Matt shook him lightly, much like had had done to Watari. And just like with Watari, L refused to stir.

"Move him to the bed," Mello ordered. And for once, no one questioned him. Near and Matt worked together to lift L and bring him to the bed, laying him down as far away from the blood spatters as possible. They didn't want Light's blood to be the first thing he saw when he woke up.

"So…" Matt said after a moment. "Are we going to talk about what happened here, or…?"

"There is nothing to talk about," Near said, his voice tight. "Beyond won. He broke in here and took Light."

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "I can see that. But that's all we know. We have no idea if Light is even alive! I mean… look at all the blood. He could easily be dead!"

"Don't say that!" Mello hissed. "We can't think like that or we'll lose hope!" His eyes drifted to L's sleeping form. "And we especially can't think like that around _him._ He's just lost someone important to him, possibly the person _most_ important to him! As far as I'm concerned, our first priority at the moment is making sure he doesn't turn suicidal."

"Good luck," Matt grumbled. "The guy has always been dramatic—this might just push him over the edge."

Mello didn't respond. Instead, his eyes rose to look at one of the various cameras lining the walls in different places. "Hey…" he said suddenly. "I want to check something out…"

†††

L came back to his senses quickly, eyes snapping open as he sat up. A gasp was torn from his lips as he looked around, seeking out Light. Where was he? Panic gripped him as he saw his three successors and Watari standing before him. Light… where was he?

"Light?" he asked weakly, voice too raspy for his taste.

He knew what Mello would say before he even opened his mouth. "He's gone, L. I'm sorry."

And just like that, it was over. Breath refused to come to him as he screamed, head dropping to his hands. He pulled at his hair, not caring when he felt the pain become blinding, because _any_ pain would be better than _this._ He barely felt Mello's arms around him, nor did he feel Near gently remove his hands from his hair, or Matt rubbing his back. All he could feel was pain, because Light, _his_ Light _,_ had been taken away by that _monster._ His eyes raked over the bed. He could see the specks of blood spotting it, he could see the smears of the substance on the walls—but it refused to register in his brain. He refused to accept the fact that the blood belonged to Light.

"L…" Matt whispered. "I don't know if now is the time you want to do this, but… Beyond left the cameras running while he… you know. If you want to see…" He left the sentence hanging.

L didn't want to see what Beyond had done to his Light. He told himself that the bloodstains were all he needed to see to know what had occurred. And seeing would cause nothing but more pain… but he wanted to see so _badly_. "Show me," he whispered. "Play the footage."

Near nodded wordlessly. He snatched up the remote lying beside him and clicked a button. The computer screen that covered half the wall lit up, and the footage began playing.

L's eyes remained glued to the screen as he watched Beyond enter his room, drug him, and throw him against the wall. He watched Light get to his feet and retreat as far as he could, obviously terrified. Beyond approached with his knife. L gritted his teeth as Light flinched away from Beyond. If only he had managed to retain consciousness instead of being _drugged!_ He could have helped Light! Protected him! But it was too late now, he thought. Beyond's threats and jibes at Light made L want to throttle the little bastard. But things didn't really get bad until Beyond stepped in and dared to touch Light.

The successors didn't try to hide their gasps of disgust when Beyond leaned in and kissed Light. What was worse was the fact that Light didn't even seem to be _fighting_ him—in fact, he even bared his neck to the bastard. It was only when he suddenly threw Beyond off that L figured out that he hadn't been submitting—he was just frozen in terror. Then the fight began, and things went downhill. Light was obviously doing his best, and managing to hold Beyond off quite decently. But it didn't last long, for Beyond was clearly the superior fighter.

The moment Beyond slammed Light chest first into the wall, it was over. He had no doubt cracked, if not broken, a rib. The idea was only enforced when Light attempted a punch, only to cry out in pain as he raised his arm. Beyond cackled, and soon had him pinned again. He slammed Light back into the wall again and again, and L didn't even want to think about how much pain his lover must have been in. He cringed as Light's screams racked his brain. It wasn't long before the teen was obviously teetering on the edge of consciousness, but still fighting. He attempted one last move—an elbow to Beyond's chest—but it was already too late. One more slam, and Light went limp. The murderer released his prey, and his body slid to the ground with a dull thud.

"No…" L whispered.

Beyond wiped blood from his face as he looked up directly into the camera. "L," he purred. "I know you're watching this. Your little successors too. Are you impressed? Do you realize that your affections have condemned this boy to death?" He knelt beside Light, rolling him onto his back. "I'm going to kill him, L. I am going to kill Light Yagami. I'm going to torture him, _slowly,_ and in every way I know how. You saw the body of Higuchi. You know what I'm capable of." He reached out with his knife and flicked Light's bloodied hair from his eyes. The blade caressed his jaw, tracing up to his nose and around his bruised lips. "I'm going to break him, emotionally and physically. I'm going to do everything you never got the chance to do. I'll violate him in ways you've never imagined, and I'll make him _beg_ for it. By the time he dies, he'll be on his knees for me whenever I ask it of him!" He laughed, the vile sound echoing around the room. He pulled Light up to him, claiming his lips with his own. "He's beautiful," he commented softly. "I can see why you're so fond of him. I could take him right here and now, you know. I could sheathe myself in him while you're in the same room, feet away." As if to illustrate the point, his fingers pulled at the button on his pants. "…But I won't. Because I want to wait until he's tied down and _helpless_ to do anything to stop me." He lifted Light's form and threw him over his shoulder. "I'm leaving with your boyfriend," he said shortly. "And I can promise you that even if you manage to find him, he will _never_ be the same. You should have said your goodbyes when you had the chance, because you will never speak to Light Yagami again." And with that he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then Mello spoke. "That… was repulsive."

Near's nose crinkled with distaste. "Indeed… the idea of Beyond being with Light in any way at all is simply revolting."

L hugged his legs to his chest. Light… what was Beyond doing to him this very moment? He was no doubt already at the murderer's mercy, tied down, alone… scared. He didn't want to imagine what Beyond do to him. "Light," he whispered.

"We have to do something to get him back," Matt whispered. "He won't hold out long against Beyond. Not against someone so well versed in torture."

L buried his head between his knees. "We won't have long. Maybe two days. Maybe two hours. It all depends on what Beyond does to him. I believe he will hold out against the emotional trauma especially well. But the physical torture, especially that of a sexual nature… I am not so sure he will last more than a day at best. And I have no doubt that that is the torture Beyond will focus on in the beginning, just to begin forming cracks in his resolve."

"You really think he'll go as far as sexual assault?" Matt questioned, eyes wide. "He's never done anything like that in the past."

"He's doing it now," Mello said shortly. "If you can't figure that out from the video then you're just plain stupid."

Matt blushed furiously. "Sorry, sorry! I guess we should inform the task force and show them the video, yeah?"

"No!" L snapped. "If we show them the video, Soichiro will go into hysterics! He won't allow himself to rest until he catches Beyond, and I am certain that it will lead to the loss of his life. All we can tell him is that Beyond has taken Light, and that he is being kept alive as bait for me. We will tell him nothing of torture or his intent."

There was a moment of silence. Then, "Okay. We won't tell them." Near's fingers twitched as he struggled to avoid reaching for his finger puppets. He'd always had the habit of playing with them when he was nervous.

"Watari, call Soichiro Yagami and tell him that his son has been kidnapped. Tell him nothing else, only that we will all discuss it in the morning, and until then the successors and I shall be working tirelessly in an attempt to find him."

"As you wish, L."

†††

Beyond stared down at the caramel-haired beauty lying on the metal table before him. He had stripped the former god down to his boxers and was in the process of wiping the blood from his wounds. Beyond felt almost bad about what he had done, especially now, when he had the time to fully examine the full extent of his injuries. He'd really outdone himself. But it had been so exhilarating to hurt the boy, to slice him open and taste his blood, that he hadn't known how to stop. He'd even lied to L, told him that he fully intended to kill Light. While it may not have been true, Beyond took great pleasure in the knowledge that L would believe him fully. His eyes slipped closed, one hand increasing pressure on Light's chest until he groaned in his unconscious state. Even now, in this weak, bleeding state, the teen was gorgeous. Perhaps he was even _more_ gorgeous when he was bleeding. Beyond dabbed at a still bleeding cut on Light's cheek as he smirked. Oh, this boy had _no_ idea what was going to happen to him. No idea what he was capable of. If he thought he was in pain before… it was nothing compared to what Beyond would do to him now. It was almost a shame that he wouldn't be allowed to kill the teen once he'd had his fun.

 _Careful, now,_ Beyond reminded himself. _You can't hurt him too badly… you might get carried away and kill him._

There was a sudden gust of air behind him, and the hulking figure of a shinigami appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Hey, kid," Ryuk greeted lazily. "So, have you given Light his memories back yet? You're not going to do it without me, right? I wanna see what happens!"

"Oh… all in good time," Beyond responded in a murmur, cloth still pressed to Light's cheek. "I'm not in any hurry. I still want to have a little fun with him, after all. And I can't do that if I give him his memories back too soon."

"Won't Light be mad at you once he remembers?"

"Probably."

"And you don't think he'll just kill you the instant you give him those memories back?"'

"No, I don't think he will… no matter what I do to him now, I'm too valuable for him to throw away. Think about it from his perspective—he's been forced to work with Misa this whole time, and then, suddenly, another genius drops out of nowhere with the full intention of serving him. I'd take the genius over Misa, wouldn't you?"

Ryuk shrugged. "Not up to me."

"And I'm not just a genius…" Beyond went on. "I have the eyes, Ryuk. I have the shinigami eyes, and I have L's real name." Beyond began to wipe the crusted blood from Light's arm. The cut there was quite deep, and it would probably require stitches—not that he was getting any. Not yet, at least. "I admit, it's entirely possible that he'll punish me for what I plan to do… but _look_ at him, Ryuk!"

The shinigami shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I get it! You like the kid!"

"He's perfect!" Beyond snapped. "How am I supposed to resist? It would be worth it… every cut, every bite, every mark… it would all be worth it, no matter what he did to me once he regained his memories." He dabbed at the blood oozing from Light's arm; raised his other hand to tangle in the teen's sweat-dampened locks. "I can't just let him go, unmarred and whole, when he could be writhing beneath my blade… I'll give him his memories back after I've had my fun."

"Are you at least going to tell him the truth about who he is?"

"No, no! That would ruin everything! I'll let him think I intend to kill him, to use his death to hurt L. It will make his pain so much more _thrilling_ if he thinks all this will end in his death. His expressions of agony will be so much more exhilarating if he thinks he'll die without seeing L again…"

Ryuk raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay! But he won't be happy about it once he regains his memories. I've seen the kid in a rage, and it isn't pretty."

"I can deal with his wrath," Beyond responded in a murmur. "As long as I get to play with him a little before I give him back the notebook."

Ryuk shrugged, clearly uncaring. "Whatever. I'm going to go find Rem—I think she drifted off towards Misa's place. Are we done here?"

"I no longer require your assistance. Besides, you may not want to see what is about to happen."

"Fine by me. See ya." There was a gentle gust of wind as the shinigami launched himself up and through the ceiling and disappeared, his wings pumping the air powerfully.

The instant he was gone, Beyond's lips curved into a sinister smile. He reached for the leather straps fastened to the table and began securing his prisoner in place. "You won't kill me for this," he murmured. "In fact, I expect you to thank me. After all…" he leaned in close, lips brushing Light's cheek as he spoke. "You need to be punished, don't you? For falling in with L… for siding with the enemy. According to your logic, criminals deserve to be punished, right? So who better to punish you for committing the crime of aiding L? It should be me… I should be the one to punish you. _I'm_ the one that loves you most, after all." His work done, Beyond leaned back and observed the bound teen. "Don't worry… I'm going to take care of you. I'll shatter you, yes, but it will be for your own good… you'd want it that way, if you had your memories. You'd understand that you deserve punishment. You'd understand why I need to break you before I can give you your memories back…"

Yes… Beyond was going to break him. And when he lay before him, trembling in fear and begging for death, Beyond would give him his memories back.

And then he would work with Kira to kill L.

†††

When my eyes opened, the first thing that registered was pain. It pulsed through my head in a dull throb, making it hard to think as I slowly returned to my senses. As I shifted, a sharp jab of agony in my chest reminded me that Beyond had severely injured it—a rib or two was probably cracked or broken. My eyes raked down my form. I was in only my boxers, restrained by leather straps across both wrists and ankles. One additional strap wrapped over my hips. I turned my attention to my surroundings. I found myself in a room seemingly made of nothing but stainless steel, like some sort of twisted walk-in freezer. The metal table I was strapped to was the only thing in it other than a large cart that held what I could only assume were various tools of torture. This wasn't looking good…

"You look like you're in a bit of trouble."

"Beyond?" I rasped. My voice was weak. I licked my lips and tasted blood.

"Not quite."

I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye, and the next moment someone was standing beside the table. I recognized him immediately—he was very young, wearing a black tank top and blue jeans. He had no shoes, much like Near, and his hair, while black instead of white, was styled in much the same way. His eyes were incredibly orange, with a small rim of yellow surrounding the pupils.

"You…" I was cut off by a fit of coughing. "You're that kid! The hallucination!"

"Is that what L told you?" the boy asked. "That I was a hallucination?"

I didn't respond to his question, instead demanding, "What did you do to me in the hospital? What did you say?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were there with me in the hospital! You said something, and then I suddenly felt better! What did you do to me?"

"I did nothing to you."

"Then why the hell am I seeing you again?"

"You called to me," he responded evenly.

"Called?" I echoed.

"Yes. I heard you scream." He hopped up on the edge of the table, seating himself so his legs swung off the edge. "I thought that you might be about to die, so I decided to appear to you. It would be inconvenient for me if you were to die, you see. I have become quite interested in you."

"Ah… that's flattering, really, but I have L—"

The child's eyes flashed. "You misunderstand. I am interested in you in much the same way Ryuk is. Purely for entertainment's sake."

"Ryuk? Who is that?"

"Ah, I forgot… you haven't regained your memories yet."

There was that phrase again. Regain my memories… what did it mean? What memories did I have to regain? "I don't know what you mean."

"No, of course you don't. But you will, in time."

I got the feeling that I didn't want to know what he meant.

The kid's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in, lowering his voice. "I will tell you this, Light Yagami. You are about to experience the most hellish thing a human being can experience. But you will survive."

"How do you know?" I asked, voice weaker than I liked. Beyond had seemed quite set on killing me—there was little doubt in my mind that I'd end up dead by the end of whatever he had planned.

"I just know." The boy's eyes darted to the space just above my head.

There was a sudden commotion outside the door, and I heard a few muffled voices yelling back and forth.

The boy got to his feet, standing on the table and tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling, as if looking at something that I could not see. "We are about to be interrupted, I'm afraid. I'd hoped to get to speak to you for a little longer—there are quite a few things we must discuss. But alas, it seems that your captor has arrived, and I must depart. No matter, I suppose. I wouldn't have been able to stay even if Beyond decided to stay away for a few minutes more. There are things that I must attend to, you see, and I only came here because your call led me to believe that you might have been on the verge of death. Now that I have assured your safety—or at least, assured that you will not die quite yet—I must leave."

"Wait!" I called out, pressing against my bonds. "Who are you? How did you even get in here? Are you really just a hallucination?"

The boy stared back at me with brilliant yellow eyes. "It is not my place to alter the path you walk, Light. At least, not now. But do not fear—we will meet again. And when we do, you will understand."

"But—!"

I heard the door creak open. My eyes darted over to the doorway, and by the time I looked back, the child had vanished. Who the hell was he? My attention was drawn back to the door as footsteps moved closer, entering the dull light given off by the single, bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Beyond?" I rasped into the dim light. There was a shadow standing a few feet away from the doorway, a shadow with slouched shoulders. I very much doubted that it was another hallucination.

That shadow moved further into the light, and I saw him—tall, slouched over, with shaggy black hair and brilliant yellowish orange eyes. I remembered L telling me about those eyes, and of how Beyond had decided to hide them with contacts all those years ago. Clearly he'd abandoned said contacts in favor of embracing those monstrous, inhuman orbs. "You guessed it!" the bastard crowed. He slammed the door behind him carelessly, making the whole place rattle. He clearly had no idea that I'd been talking to someone. "You've really stepped in it this time, kiddo! You have no _idea_ what I'm going to do to you." He approached slowly, his fingers reaching out to run across my cracked lips. I immediately attempted to move my head away, but I found that he possessed near inhuman strength—I couldn't seem to pull away. "You're going to be punished," he whispered. "I'm going to punish you… and then I'll get to see my god."

I shuddered, not understanding. "Whatever it is, just get it over with! I can take whatever you throw at me!" I couldn't. We both knew this.

"Let us test that theory, then." Beyond wheeled the cart over to rest beside me. He ran his fingers over the objects sitting on the top, touching each and every one of them in an overly meditative fashion. When he drew his hand away he was holding a scalpel, his lips stretched back to reveal blindingly white teeth. My breath increased in speed. I hoped he couldn't tell.

"Already scared?" he taunted, brushing the scalpel over my bruised chest. He paused just over my heart and pressed down lightly. Damn, the thing was sharp! It sliced through my flesh like paper, spilling fresh blood down my chest in beads. I realized suddenly that the blood that should have been crusted on my flesh was gone—Beyond must have cleaned me off while I was unconscious. I gasped as Beyond dug the blade further into my flesh. But it was nothing compared to the pain that was already coursing through my chest, so I didn't cry out. Beyond frowned, seeming to realize the same thing.

"Shame," he sighed. "I was hoping to be gentle at first, but it appears that you're already in too much pain to care about a little cut…." He pressed the scalpel against my shoulder and pressed down again, just as lightly. I expected him to stop with a light cut, but he continued pressing, harder and harder, digging the blade further and further into my shoulder. I barely bit back a yelp as he pressed with surgeon-like precision. It was painful, yes—but it was a dull pain, nothing like I would have expected. I remembered reading that when the human body was suddenly injured, sometimes adrenaline played a role in numbing the pain. The only downside of that was that the instant the adrenaline faded, the pain would hit me more than ever.

Beyond paused, the scalpel buried dangerously deep in my shoulder. "Now…" he purred, "does that feel okay? I didn't cut too shallowly, did I?"

I let out a light hiss through gritted teeth, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt warm liquid dripping down my flesh, falling in droplets onto he previously clean table. I shook my head from side to side, though I wasn't sure if I was responding to his question or protesting what he was doing.

"Good, then…" he went on. He tightened his grip on the scalpel. Then, horrifyingly, he ripped it downwards in a short, quick slash. I felt my flesh tear beneath the blade, felt it flick down from my shoulder to the sensitive flesh of my upper arm, ripping through muscle as it went. _Don't scream!_ I ordered myself. _Don't scream, don't scream… I can't let him win!_ It was horribly difficult to hold it back, but I choked back the strangled noise just as it was about to burst forth, biting into my tongue until I tasted blood.

Beyond, of course, was determined to win. He withdrew the scalpel and held it before my eyes, forcing me to watch as my own blood dripped from the instrument to my chest. "Beautiful…" he whispered. "Doesn't it make you _shiver?"_

He pressed the scalpel to my other shoulder, pressing in sharply. I kept my teeth firmly clenched as the murderer flicked the blade down, forming a mark completely identical to the one carved into the opposite arm. The pain was growing sharper and sharper. My arm was on fire, all of the previous numbness fading away far too quickly for my liking. If he'd drug the scalpel just a few inches lower, it would have made contact with the brutal slash from the previous night. Still, despite the pain roaring through me, I would not part my lips. I would not scream. I would not give in. Briefly, my mind flickered back to L, and I felt my heart crack as I realized what he must have been going through knowing that he failed to protect me. But my train of thought was scattered as Beyond raised the scalpel once more and slashed it down across my chest with a flick of his wrist, sending a jolt of pain lacing up my spine.

"Is it not enough?" he murmured, flicking the scalpel back across my chest again, and then again. With each pass he cut deeper, pressed harder, and it became more and more difficult for me to control the scream bubbling in the back of my throat. He scored a line of slashes neatly across my skin, each one moving with almost surgical precision from collar to stomach. But even as the blood dripped in sickening rivers down my stomach, gushed from the deep wounds gouged down my arms, pooled on the table below, I would not cry out. Beyond seemed dissatisfied with my lack of noise. "I haven't heard any of those delightful sounds yet, Light. That makes me very unhappy, you know."

A jolt of horrible agony shot through me as he brought his torturous scalpel back down, the delicate blade flaying open the flesh and carving into sensitive nerves. My world blurred as Beyond raised is free hand so I could see it. Eyes never leaving my face, he brought his palm down on my chest, applying gentle pressure. Despite the gentleness that touch displayed, it threw me into a new realm of pain. Beyond's fingers curled into the wounds littering my skin and pressed down hard. This time there was no containing my yelp as Beyond clawed into my split skin without mercy, tearing the wounds open agonizingly, sending impossible amounts of blood flowing down my chest. I was struck by the brief realization that if this went on, I would fall unconscious or go into shock—the human body could only take so much blood loss, after all. When Beyond drew his hand away, it was covered in blood. I could barely focus on him as he raised his hand to his lips and sucked on a few fingers, removing my blood from his stained skin. "Mmm…" he moaned, seeming to savor the taste. "You truly are delicious…"

I struggled not to gag, or make any kind of noise. In my mind, emitting even a single sound meant that I'd lost, and consequently, that Beyond had won. But the pain was becoming sickening. My stomach turned, my vision was going white—and worst of all, my whole world was beginning to blur more and more.

"No?" Beyond asked, looking disappointed. "No more than a yelp? If you won't scream, then I'm just going to have to find another way, you know." He dropped the scalpel back onto the table and opened one of the compartments in his infernal cart. When he pulled out something resembling a blowtorch, I wanted to cry. The murderer held the tool up, a grin on his face, a grin that only increased when I subconsciously strained against my bonds in an attempt to get away. I stubbornly kept my teeth gritted, lips sealed. "Now, now, we wouldn't want you to bleed out!" Beyond chastised. "You should thank me for cauterizing your wounds!" He turned the blowtorch on with the flick of a button, and even from a few inches away, the heat was blinding. He held it so close to my skin that I could feel it beginning to burn terribly, and I felt the little control I had slipping. "Just scream, Light…" Beyond urged. But still, I would not cave. Seeing this, Beyond's eyes narrowed. "You'll regret it," he whispered dangerously. With that, he harshly shoved the white-hot flame against my flesh.

This time I couldn't hold back a horrible scream, an ear-piercing, endless sound that refused to end as Beyond passed his infernal flame up and down my lacerated chest. I felt the flow of blood slowing almost completely as my wounds were burned closed, the scarlet liquid turning disgustingly thick and sticky before slowing to a slow, sloppy drizzle—but above all else, I felt pain. Terrible, unending pain as the flame seared my chest, dipping to my arms. As the flame left one wound and moved to another, the lingering flickers of agony seemed to grow in intensity, worsening as time went on. Logically I knew that Beyond had saved my life—I would have bled out in record time if I'd been left with so many deep wounds. But my logical mind was locked behind bars of white-hot agony as the agony began to fill my head with fluff. Just as I would pass out from the pain, the torch was brought away and the worst of it was immediately gone. I choked and gasped for breath. I refused to look down at my chest and stomach. But I knew that if I dared to glance down, I would be met with the terrible sight of my wounds, burnt and oozing scarlet, and my blackened flesh where Beyond had intentionally strayed from the lacerations with the full intent of causing me as much pain as possible.

Beyond tossed the blowtorch back into the cart carelessly. "Is that all you can take?" he asked, a vicious grin on his face. "Is that all it takes to make you scream?" He shook his head, a sinister grin on his face. "I'm disappointed that L would love such a fragile creature."

I glared up at him through glazed eyes. "I'm not as fragile as you think," I spat, anger clouding over my better judgment. "It doesn't matter what you do to me, L will find and save me, and I'll hold out until he does!" I hoped so desperately that it was true. But another part of me, the less selfish part, didn't want L to find me—for if he did, then he would no doubt be forced to deal with Beyond. And if that happened, he might get hurt. I'd promised that I'd save myself so l wouldn't fall into danger…but lying here beneath Beyond's knife was making me more and more skeptical that I would get the chance to escape. Beyond was a genius—if he wanted someone to stay put, he knew how to make it happen. And even if the opportunity to escape arose, I very much doubted I would have the strength to run for it. Even after just this short time, I felt dizzy and lightheaded. I didn't think I'd be able to pull it together long enough to escape.

Beyond cocked his head to one side, fingers running through the blood pooling on the table. "Will L save you? Will he?" The man reached back to the cart and pulled out a long coil of leather. A whip. No way…was he seriously going to—?

"I'm sorry to dash your hopes, Light, but after a few days, you're not going to want L to save you." Beyond took a few steps back, coiling the whip in his hand.

What did he mean? Did this have something to do with Beyond's insane ranting about my memories? I swallowed hard, very much wishing that I could just close my eyes and wish it all away.

Beyond lashed out with the whip. It struck the table just beside my head, startling me severely. "Beg for me to stop," Beyond snarled. "Scream, beg! Give in to your punishment!"

I sealed my eyes shut immediately. I would not give him the pleasure of seeing the fear, the pain in my eyes. Even if I had already lost, even if I was going to die in this place, I would not let him win.

 _Crack!_

I screeched as a stripe of pain tore across my stomach, the lash of the whip cutting through sensitive, burned flesh and previous cuts. Another carved across my chest, then my arms. I could feel blood beginning to well up in the shallow slices. I was painfully lightheaded—I must have been about to go into shock, or fall into unconsciousness. All rational thought was soon torn from me as the whip continued its savage routine, beginning its relentless work slashing across my upper body. When I felt the whip lash dangerously close to my groin, I gave in.

"Stop it!" I snapped viciously. "Don't go any further!"

Beyond raised a brow. "Are you begging?"

"No, just…!" I trailed off, knowing that saying anything more _would_ be begging.

He shrugged, feigning indifference. "Then I won't stop." He brought his weapon back. To my relief, the lash landed on my thigh. He slowly began to work over my legs with savage intent, blood dripping from them in streams in a matter of minutes. No matter how much I tried to keep myself from screaming, it wasn't enough. At least once every few lashes my control slipped, and I couldn't help but cry out. So often, in fact, did I scream, that it was a matter of minutes before my voice became raspy and weak. With every noise I made, Beyond offered either a degrading comment or ordered me to beg, and I could tell that he was taking great pleasure in what he was doing. His teeth glinted in a savage smile, and his expression grew more and more elated with every lash of the whip. As his elation grew so did the strength with which he lashed me, and he soon succeeded in his goal of making me scream unendingly. Before Beyond managed to work over half of my second leg, my voice gave out completely, moving to desperate moans and whimpers that I couldn't control. When he finally finished working over my legs, I thought for just a moment that he would stop—but he was merciless in his torture, and a heartbeat later he turned the whip back on my damaged chest, then on both arms. It wasn't until I was completely covered in lacerations that Beyond finally paused and put the whip down, reaching for a canister of something I couldn't see. I heard the sound of a cap being unscrewed. Beyond moved to my head and waved the canister under my nose.

Salt.

"Normally I don't like using salt," he sighed. "It fouls the blood, you see. And you taste so good, I almost don't want to do this… but I just have to hear more of those thrilling noises you make when you're in pain! So I think I'll stoop to extremes just this once." He held the canister over my bleeding stomach. "Besides, you haven't begged yet, so how bad could my methods be?" I tensed involuntarily, knowing full well what was about to come.

The first granules of salt hit my wounds, and immediately I hissed painfully. A moment later a fountain of the offensive spice was being poured over every inch of my lacerated body, tearing scream after scream from my throat, which was becoming far to hoarse for words. I thrashed weakly against my bonds, succeeding in throwing off a small amount of salt—but overall all I managed to do was shift the granules further into my wounds, increasing the horrible agony tearing through my body. _I can't beg… I can't beg!_ Beyond clicked his tongue sadly, shaking his head. "Am I finally getting to you? Are you ready to beg me for relief?" He leaned down close to my face, fingers pulling at my hair playfully. "I can rinse all that off, and we can do something else," he suggested.

I knew full well what the bastard had in mind. "No way in hell!" I managed through the agony. He shrugged and poured more salt onto the wounds. I couldn't take much more… how much pain could one person take before they blacked out? It was apparently a hell of a lot more than I thought it was. Just when I thought I was about to black out, the flow of salt stopped, and the canister was thrown to the floor. White granules scattered across the floor in a captivating spray.

I would have been relieved had the salt not still been covering my body. Beyond reached out a hand and lay it lightly on my stomach.

"Don't you dare!" I spat, knowing full well what he was planning to do.

He smirked. Both hands came down on my stomach, rubbing the salt into the wounds. The scream that forced its way from my throat was animalistic in nature, my limbs jerking weakly against restraints. I was more than aware how pitiful I must have looked as my eyelids dropped to half-mast, lips parted in an attempt to draw in breath. Another screech tried to escape, but all that would leave my lips was a strained whimper. Beyond never ceased his infernal movements, grinding the salt further and further into the burning wounds. The moment he thought he wasn't getting a good enough reaction from one part of my body, he moved to the next, and the next, and the next. Finally he stood before me, his merciless work complete. He used a finger to pry open one of my eyes, gazing into the hazy depths. Funny… I hadn't even realized I'd closed them. For a moment, I felt relief course through me. I hadn't begged. I hadn't let Beyond win. It was over now… right?

Evidently not. Without a word Beyond reached for a bottle and unscrewed the cap. For a heartbeat I hoped it was water to wash away the salt, or to drink. But I barely had time to notice the red and white label before he poured it over me.

It only took one moment of pain for me to figure out that the liquid he'd just doused me with was rubbing alcohol. It hurt, but it was minimal compared to the salt, so I didn't even make a sound. Luckily for me, he only took one pass with the liquid before stepping back to admire his handiwork. "L would be proud," he announced. I was too far gone to comprehend his words. He leaned over me, lips hovering over mine. "You look delectable like this… flushed, in pain…" I didn't have the strength to protest as he kissed me, just as brutally as the time before. His hands brushed once more over the cuts, locating a nipple and pinching it sharply. I moaned weakly into his mouth. "You're sensitive," he purred, the bottle of running alcohol slipping from his fingers to spill out over ground. He slipped his hand behind my head and propped me up just enough so that he could gain easier access to my bleeding lips. I barely felt his tongue force its way into my mouth, licking at the backs of my teeth and exploring every crevice. His fingers found the hem of my boxers, and a spike of fear drove its way through me, just managing to shake me of my stupor. I attempted to move my head away, but Beyond simply held me in place more firmly. "Don't try to move away from me," he snarled, pulling back to strike me across the face. Where he'd struck burned terribly. "You will lie here and be as submissive for me as you were for L!"

The thought made my stomach turn. If I'd had anything in my stomach, it would have exited via mouth. But I hadn't had anything to eat since the previous morning, over twenty-four hours ago, so all that rose in my throat was bile.

"Do you understand me?"

I kept my chin defiantly raised, refusing him a response, almost praying he'd go back to torturing me rather than committing an act so vile as to kiss me.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and I knew he was angry. The thought was almost ironic, seeing as I was the one strapped down to a table, bleeding and burnt. "You won't last long," he snarled viciously. "You will break. They all do." He leaned back down and reinitiated the violent kiss. I pressed my lips stubbornly, refusing to allow his vile tongue to enter my mouth. "Now, now," he muttered, "don't make me do things the hard way…" I felt his tongue press demandingly at the crease between my lips, but still I refused him. A growl of irritation rumbled low in the murderer's throat as he reached a hand down, smashing his palm into my stomach and grinding down as hard as he could. Immediately my lips parted in an agonized gasp, and in the same second I felt him enter my mouth without hesitation. Despite my best attempts to expel him, I could do nothing but lie in silence, stifling the occasional pained groan as he rubbed along my damaged skin. I forced myself to ignore the hand playing with the hem of my boxers—I refused to give him the pleasure of showing any reaction to his movements. It seemed like an eternity had passed before he drew away—and when he did, blood was the only taste I could register in my abused mouth. My lips hurt… they would no doubt be swollen. Beyond lapped at my neck. "Bare your neck to me," he ordered softly, dangerously.

I immediately shook my head in response. Beyond didn't hesitate to twist his fingers through my hair, slamming my cheek into the table and holding me there forcefully. He leaned down, and I felt him grin against my skin as his lips ghosted over my throat. He fastened his teeth to one point, biting and sucking harshly before moving to the next point, and the next. There were no words to describe the disgust that filled my entire being with every lap of his tongue, every place he laid a hand on my lacerated body. My neck was already covered in L's love bites, but this was entirely different—the marks Beyond was leaving on my skin felt intrusive, _wrong._ I knew that it wouldn't be long before he entirely covered the remaining unmarred flesh in large, purple marks. The thought was sickening.

"Good…" Beyond murmured. His breath rolled across my throat. "I could take you now… I could finish stripping you and have my way. But instead, I think I'll leave you now, suffering. I know how much it _hurts_ …" He ran his fingertips across my chest, dipping to rub circles on my lacerated stomach. "It'll hurt like hell, but it won't kill you. And if I leave you here, anticipating my next move… then when I return, you'll already be ready to crack before I take a blade to your bruising flesh. You'll break eventually, my Light. You will beg me to stop." The murderer shot me a vicious smile, fingers plucking at my waistband. "Oh, but how it hurts me to wait…" he whispered, eyes half-lidded, glazed with what could only be described as sadistic lust. He finally drew away from me, pushing his cart of instruments too far away for me to even hope to reach. "I'll see you in a while, Light! Behave yourself, now!"

He whirled around, flicking my blood from his fingertips, and headed for the door. He paused, fingers grasping the handle, and shot me one last look, his eyes brimming with anticipation. He opened the door, looking very much like he wanted to return to my side and go back on what he'd said. But then he turned and stepped out of the room.

The door swung shut, and he was gone.

†††

The next time I was woken, it was by Beyond holding a bucket of water.

"Light!" he called in a singsong voice. "I'm back!" He rested the bucket of water on the cart of tools, wheeling it back over to me and reaching for a rag. He swiftly dampened the cloth, reaching down to begin cleaning the blood, salt, and iodine off my chest. It stung—but I couldn't even consider it painful after the agony I had endured the night before, so I didn't make a noise. There was a terrible ache emanating from my ribs and lacerated body, and I could feel the dull throb emanating from my lips and head. My thirst had grown severely, but I was too nervous to be hungry.

"What are you going to do?" I demanded after a short while of him doing nothing but cleaning my tattered body. "What torture have you planned for today?"

"So eager to get started?" he asked, amused. "You will see what I have planned for you."

He adjusted the straps over my legs so they were spread as far as possible on the narrow table. Immediately the implications of that simple action had my stomach leaping into my throat. He couldn't possibly be preparing to…

I wouldn't let myself finish that sentence. Beyond tightened the straps over my wrists and hips until I had no hope of moving even an inch. He withdrew a large knife from his belt, holding it up to the light so that it sparkled menacingly. "Today I will torture you in a different way," he purred, fingers dancing over my skin. I gulped nervously.

"What do you mean?" I knew perfectly well what he meant, unfortunately.

He laughed, eyes half lidded. "I think you know exactly what I mean, little one." He slashed once with his blade, and my boxers fell away. I gasped at the indignation, the shame. Beyond, still fully clothed, climbed onto the table and straddled me, face inches from mine. "Are you ready to be a good little boy for me?" He pushed my chin up with ease.

"Go to hell!" I spat, trying to preserve what little dignity I had left.

It had been the wrong thing to say. His brow furrowed, lips pursed as he regarded me. "You will obey me," he said flatly. "No matter what I ask of you, you will obey."

I gritted my teeth and glared up at him defiantly.

"Part your lips for me," he ordered. Just as the time before, I refused to do any such thing. Beyond dipped his head so his lips brushed my ear as he spoke, his hot breath feeling sickly and disgusting against my skin. "Would you rather return to our previous activities?" he whispered, his palm resting lightly on the burned skin of my stomach. "If you like, I could pick up that blowtorch again, or any other number of the thrilling little devices I have in that cart. Or…" His other hand, the hand not resting on my stomach, cupped between my legs in uncharacteristically gentle gesture. "…We could skip the foreplay and get right to the main event. What do you say, Light?"

For a long moment I remained frozen. The horror of Beyond touching me in such an intimate way overwhelmed all aspects of my mind, and for a heartbeat I found myself unable to do anything at all. This… was bad. Very bad. A part of me was still hoping that L was about to burst in and stop this from happening. But the more logical part of my mind, the part being overwhelmed by disgust and fear, reminded me that it was next to impossible.

"Well?" Beyond whispered. "Make a decision… or I'll make one for you."

I didn't have much of a choice. Slowly, fighting down bile, I allowed my lips to part for the monster leaning over me. He grinned toothily, eyes glittering in the dim light. "Good decision," he praised. He lowered his head until his lips barely brushed mine. He hesitated for a few, agonizing moments, and I knew that the bastard was teasing. But unlike L, Beyond's teasing wasn't pleasant in the least. All it was doing was building up an unpleasant knot deep within me, sending the numbing poison of dread lacing throughout my limbs. Then, in a moment that lasted far too long, Beyond thrust his tongue into my mouth, leaving no room for doubt as to what he wanted from me. He lapped insistently at the inside of my mouth, and it took everything I had to keep still and unresponsive. As he forced the kiss upon me, he reached down and palmed over my chest, pinching a nipple between two fingers and applying painful force. I couldn't stop a soft whimper from leaving my lips as Beyond latched his mouth onto the juncture between neck and shoulder, mouthing over the other discolored marks. I felt him grin against my lips in response to the small noise.

"Don't hold anything back," he whispered. "I want to hear you moan, hear you _scream_ …" He bit my lip harshly, drawing blood. His hand had moved slightly lower on my chest, dipping to the center of my stomach. His hand dipped even lower to stroke up and down my thigh teasingly. I gasped despite myself, the light touches beginning to invoke an unwilling response in me.

"D-don't!" I gasped. "Please, don't do this!"

Beyond's grin only grew. "Are you begging?"

Breath caught in my throat. No… no, I wouldn't beg!

He just laughed at my lack of response, fingers dipping lower still. He played with the head of my slightly hardened cock as his lips sucked on the marks he'd left the night before. "Does it feel good, Light?" he asked childishly. "Do you want more?"

I shook my head, denying my body the pleasure it sought from the situation. "Get the hell away from me! Stop doing that!"

"You're growing hard," he noted evilly, fingers moving nimbly up and down the shaft. "Are you sure you want me to stop?"

I attempted a response, but a swift stroke of his hand tore all coherent thought from my mind. Another stroke had me writhing beneath him, movements small and jerky due to the bindings. It was then that I realized why the strap was across my hips as my body acted against my will, attempting to jerk upwards. A distressed sound escaped me as that familiar coil of heat began to build, overshadowed by an intense feeling of disgust. _No,_ I tried to tell myself, _stop this! Stop reacting to him!_ But my body didn't seem to be listening to me. With every soft touch I felt myself growing hard, felt my body arching up minutely towards my captor. Beyond laughed softly at the reaction as his lips broke away from mine, dipping down to seal around a hardening nipple. His hand left my groin, moving further downwards to push at my entrance.

I let out a choked sound of surprise, jerking weakly away. "No—!"

"What?" he growled darkly. "Not so eager at the thought of me topping you instead of your precious L?" His teeth bared in a snarl as he spoke. "Submit to me and I'll make this as painless as possible. Continue to deny me those appealing noises you want to make and I'll fuck you dry."

The threat startled me beyond words. I opened my mouth to protest, but found myself completely silent. Beyond took silence for agreement. He reached over to the cart and pulled a small tube from the top. I recognized the stuff from my first time with L. There was the sound of the cap being snapped open, then a vulgar, wet sound as Beyond coated his fingers in the stuff.

"Do you want me to prepare you?" he asked hotly.

My teeth clashed together angrily. If I said yes I was submitting. If I refused, I wasn't giving in—but it just would cause me more pain seeing that he was going to do it anyways. Still, I refused to give in so easily. "I don't want you to lay a hand on me, bastard!"

He froze, eyes narrowing. His fingers were pressed flush to my entrance, rubbing teasingly, but he didn't push in. Instead, he did the opposite—pulling away with a jerk, wiping his fingers off with one of the various cloths sitting on the table.

He turned his back on me and rummaged through the drawers of the cart. He blocked my view as he withdrew several objects from the cart and placed them on the tabletop beside my waist. "Oh, Light, what have I told you about behaving? Your punishment might just be more than you can take…"

"Punishment?" I croaked, fear lacing through me.

"You refused me," he said coldly, all traces of passion gone. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but you leave me no choice." I heard something clank against the metal table, and suddenly something was being held so that I could see it.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Let me explain to you how this is going to work," he said coldly. "I am going to fuck you, Light. But first you'll have to be punished for denying me." I felt the thing he was holding nudge at my entrance teasingly. "I am going to force this deep, _deep_ inside of you, until all you can feel is _pain._ I will destroy you, take your pride, and then, when you can take it no more, when you think that you would rather die, I will make it _worse and worse_ until you lose your grasp on _sanity._ I will _ruin_ you for your precious L! You'll never be able to be with him again without thinking of _me!_ "

"Is that all?" I attempted to sound confident. It didn't work.

He shook his head cruelly, eyes flashing. "I will _break_ you, Light… before the end of today you will submit without question." I felt the toy he was holding nudge threateningly against me. "At any time you feel so inclined, I encourage you to beg me for mercy. The instant you beg, this all ends."

I was a heartbeat away from begging him right then and there.

"Oh, but…" he went on, stopping me before I could speak. "Keep in mind, the second you beg, _I'll_ replace this little toy, and then we can have some _real_ fun." He leaned over me, twisting and turning the object over and over in his hand. The other hand shot up to hold my head in place as he instigated another violent kiss. "So…" he purred. "Care to start begging now?"

"I'll never submit to you!" I spat.

"You will give in by the end of today," he said shortly. I could feel the disgusting toy probing at my entrance. Beyond had done nothing in terms of preparation, and a shudder of disgust and horror ran through me as I realized just how much this would hurt. It was then that I got an understanding for just how large the thing was—much larger than any normal human. For a heartbeat I allowed regret to flow through me. If I just begged now, I could end it before it even began! But then the thought of Beyond filling me consumed my mind, and I shook my head violently. I refused to let that happen. I couldn't betray L like that!

"Oh, and just for fun…" Beyond reached over and snapped a cock ring onto my arousal. "You won't be deriving any pleasure from this until I _say_ you can."

Once again I was tempted to beg. I could feel Beyond's eyes on my face, clearly anticipating the moment I broke and begged for him to stop. But I wouldn't break, not yet—and so I steeled myself, locking my eyes on the ceiling and vowing to remain unresponsive no matter what the monster did to me.

Beyond shrugged, clearly brushing off my stubbornness. He grabbed hold of a thigh with one hand, and pushed the toy in hard with the other. I gasped as the tip of the thing pressed into me, just enough to cause discomfort and draw a small amount of blood. The edges were jagged—an alteration Beyond must have made himself. I would be badly cut before the end of this. Beyond laughed at the look of discomfort on my face, pushing harder, and harder, relishing every cry and moan that escaped my lips. _Surely it's nearly in,_ I thought, convincing myself that there couldn't be much more to take—I already felt like I was going to burst! But a glance down told me that I had taken not even half the toy. The jagged plastic tore mercilessly at my insides, and for the first time I thought I understood the feeling of being torn in half. This was beyond painful—it was cruel, it was _brutal._ Warm trickles of liquid ran down my thighs, and I didn't even want to think about how badly I'd been torn.

"Does it hurt yet?" Beyond whispered, giving a particularly hard shove, forcing the repulsive thing further inside. It hurt, yes… but the pain was being lessened by the blood that flowed freely from my tattered insides. Unfortunately for me, that only smoothed the toy's passage further inside, and Beyond continued to torture me in that most vile way, moving excruciatingly slow. It was so deep inside… and then it brushed up against something inside me, and a desperate moan was torn from my lips. Beyond gripped my cock, increasing the painful pleasure.

"You just have to beg," he whispered. "It will all stop if you beg…"

I refused to. I could still handle it! The thing brushed against the spot inside me once again, and my body immediately threw itself upwards against its bonds, attempting to get at that spot again even as a wave of disgust filled me. But the instant I moved into the punishment Beyond pulled away slightly, just enough so that on the next thrust the thing brushed just lightly enough at that spot to be maddening. Blood dropped onto the table in beads, drying in trails as it dripped down my thighs. A moan wrenched itself from my unwilling lips. Beyond, smirking at the noise, pushed down harder and harder until pleasure once more gave way to pain. The object was still barley in contact with that deep, deep spot, keeping me in a constant state of pleasurable pain. It was only increased by Beyond's fondling and sucking at my neck, and his other hand stroking teasingly at my cock. In a sudden jolt he shoved the thing hard against the spot that was so pleasurable. I cried out desperately as it pressed hard on the spot, the pleasure blinding. I wanted so badly to come, to get it over with and rid myself of the humiliation.

"Beg."

Another brutal thrust.

" _Beg._ "

Beyond's lips curled in a snarl as the room remained free of begging. He'd expected me to break by now—and to be fair, I'd expected to have broken by now as well. My captor pulled the toy almost entirely out of me in one, swift action. For just a moment relief filled me as the pain fled—though consequently, the pleasure was diminished. _That's a good thing…_ I reminded myself hazily. _I don't want to feel anything because of what this monster is doing._ Beyond's eyes never left my face as in another swift action, he rammed the toy back into me as hard as he could. The noise that escaped me was somewhere between a scream and a moan, pain and pleasure mingling and becoming one as Beyond withdrew the toy, shoved it back in, withdrew it, shoved it back in, again and again in an endless pattern. He kept up the ruthless rhythm, alternating between maddeningly gentle and agonizingly brutal, shoving the thing in impossibly deep one moment and deceptively shallow the next. It was disgustingly pleasurable, and while every part of me screamed its revulsion, my whole body still trembled and shook in the throes of pleasure. Beyond kept up his infuriatingly random movements, shoving the toy fast then slow, deep then deeper, over and over again. The coil of heat within me was growing painful. I wanted it to end…

Beyond, sensing how dangerously close I was to cracking, snapped his head down and sealed his teeth to my neck. He bit until the skin split, then began sucking relentlessly like some sort of demented vampire, savoring the taste of my blood. One hand darted to my cock, increasing the pressure painfully, while the other shot up and pinched a nipple between two fingers, twisting and kneading in an action that shouldn't have been as pleasurable as it was. I felt betrayed by my body, and it was the most disgustingly wrong feeling I'd ever been forced to endure.

"Beg!" Beyond ordered through his death grip on my neck.

My lips parted, and for a moment I fully intended to beg. But I caught the words on the tip of my tongue and swallowed them back down violently. "N-no…" I stuttered. "You'll… h-have to do better than t-that…"

"I see." His eyes were narrowed in irritation. "There is another way to make you break." He leaned over to the cart and retrieved a small rectangular remote-like object, a dial fastened to the top. The grin he shot me was nothing short of predatory as he purred, "Don't you just love the high-tech nature of sex toys these days?"

My heart leapt into my throat. Oh god, he couldn't possibly be about to—

I screamed involuntarily as the toy began to vibrate slightly. It just barely brushed against that something inside me for the nth time, driving me to strain towards it in vain. All of my restraint was beginning to melt away; even my disgust was being curbed as I strained to just _make it stop._ Beyond let out a low chuckle. He sat back, twisting the dial on the remote, and the vibrations grew ever stronger. The murderer hadn't allowed me to move any further towards the object, nor did he allow it to pull out of me. Instead he held me in a maddening limbo, forcing me to feel all the pleasure I wanted so badly to quell. He held still for what felt like hours—but I knew it had been no more than a minute. Beyond went on that way, increasing the vibrations ever few minutes until I was a flushed, sweaty mess, unable to contain my moans.

"Ahh, Beyond…" I panted after I felt that I could take no more. "Ple—" I cut myself off. _No… I c-can't…_

"What was that?" he whispered, leaning closer. He shifted my body slightly, the vibrations increasing as the toy hit me at a different angle. "Did you have something you wanted to say to me?"

I tried to hold out. But Beyond shifted me in _just_ the right way, and my resolve crumbled. "Please!" I gasped, writhing painfully against my bonds. "Please, please, just stop this!"

He grinned toothily. "Interesting proposition. But you've been so naughty today, resisting me… maybe I should just strap my little toy here and leave for a few hours. I'm getting rather hungry, after all."

The thought of being left this way overpowered any remaining shreds of dignity. "No…" I begged breathily. "Please, no…"

"Do you want to say that again?" he prompted, clearly enjoying his victory immensely.

"Please…" My voice was weak. "Please stop…"

Beyond seemed satisfied. He clicked a button and the vibrations stopped. He yanked the object out of me in one, smooth motion. A glance down at it told me that it was covered with my blood. The instant it was out the pain returned full force—the pain of being torn mercilessly, the pain of being held from release—it was too much. "Please!" I repeated, pain evident in my voice. "Please!"

Beyond let out a laugh, unstrapping me and dragging me onto the ground, forcing me onto my back. He unzipped his pants and positioned himself over my mouth, knees resting on either side of my head. "Suck," he commanded.

For just a moment I was tempted to refuse—but then my eyes found that horrible toy, still resting on the metal table, covered in blood, and I knew that I couldn't let him use it on me again. Beyond's cock was nudging at my lips, and I made my decision. I barely kept back a surge of bile as my lips closed over the head, tongue twirling over his arousal as I sucked it further and further into my mouth. I stopped only when he hit the back of my throat. Beyond shuddered as my teeth scraped lightly at him. I dared to relax my throat just enough to coax him in further, hoping that if I pleasured him sufficiently he would end this swiftly. It seemed to work—his expression transformed to one of pleasure and intense lust. He pulled out of my mouth almost completely, then slammed back in, nearly making me gag. He repeated the process only a few times, clearly eager to get what he wanted. He gave one last thrust, shoving his cock to the back of my throat and ordering, "Lick me."

Overcoming my disgust, I obeyed without so much as a complaint, laving my tongue up and down the murderer's length. Beyond's hands pinned my shoulders to the ground as he pulled himself out with a wet pop, reveling in the sight of my saliva dripping down the hardened flesh. "Good," he murmured, eyes half-lidded and passionate. "Good. You've learned your lesson, haven't you?"

I forced myself to nod.

Beyond pulled me onto my knees with powerful arms, whirling me around and forcing me to position myself on hands and knees. The position was humiliating, and if I hadn't already been through hell, I would have refused. But I was so tired, and I couldn't face that damned toy again…

"I was going to be nice to you and use lube for your first time with me," Beyond purred, "But you've been such a bad boy, I think I'll just take you like this. Do you want that?"

Bile was rising in my throat again. But still, I forced out a minute nod. I didn't want to make him angry… I couldn't make him angry…

Beyond lowered his lips to such harshly at the back of my neck. His hands sealed over my hips, and he pushed in with one, strong thrust. My eyelids fluttered in pleasurable disgust as I felt him fully sheathe himself—I felt the release I craved just within reach, and I strained towards it, struggling to ignore the fact that _Beyond_ was the one pressing into me from behind. If I just closed my eyes and imagined it was someone else, that it was L, it made the situation just manageable enough to be bearable. But Beyond was definitely not L, and every move he made just served to shake me out of my fantasy and remind me that this wasn't a daydream, it was a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up.

Beyond was not gentle. He grabbed me by the hips and fucked brutally up into me, his rhythm never faltering, never ending, and never slowing. He was inhumanly harsh in his force, his hips meeting mine with sharp slaps of flesh on flesh. His teeth were gleaming, gritted in the dim light. I could tell that after torturing me for so long, he was eager to get on with it. His motions were almost rushed in their ferocity, in the way he so clearly sought to use me as his toy.

I could feel the exact moment he lost control—when he lost all rhythm and settled for thrusting in a blind frenzy, finally burying himself within me to the hilt and allowing himself to release deep inside my battered body. He left his softening cock within me as he reached to the cock ring, slipping it off. He had barely touched me before I came with a cry, white liquid spattering over his hand.

Beyond collapsed immediately afterwards, chest pressed into my back, arms around me. For a haunting moment I was reminded of L—the way he'd held me after sex, as if I were the most precious artifact in the world. But then Beyond was pushing off of me and pulling out, teeth bared in a savage snarl. "I hope you've learned your lesson," he snapped. His voice was wavering. He was just as tired as I was. "You have, haven't you, Light?"

I barely managed the nod.

"Good little submissive," he whispered, hauling me to my feet and dragging me roughly back up onto the table. He closed the leather straps back over me without a word, and I realized with horror that I wouldn't be able to even _attempt_ to clean myself up. Beyond backed away, clearly unsteady on his feet. "I advise you rest, little one. This is only the beginning, after all." The monster grinned savagely. Then he turned, and with one last demented laugh, strode from the room.

I blinked, looking down at my body as he left. My body was marred with cuts and hickeys, but the most revolting feature was definitely the thick, white liquid that was dripping down my legs to join the blood on the table. I remembered with some satisfaction that I'd dirtied Beyond's hand, and that he would have to shower to remove all traces of me from his flesh. For a moment I felt almost smug—but then I realized just how foolish that was, and I was hit by a sudden wave of disgusted depression. The reality of what had happened was just hitting me, and I was beginning to feel violently ill.

"L," I choked out, turning my head away from the door just in case Beyond happened to come back in. "L…" just saying his name at least brought me some modicum of comfort as I imagined his dark hair, his obsidian eyes, his gentle touch…oh god, I missed him… I had no idea how long it had been since I'd seen him, but I missed him ever so desperately… "I'm sorry…" I felt so weak, so useless. I couldn't even stop Beyond from having his way with me. Was I even worth it? Was I worth L risking himself? The sense of euphoria had long since died down, leaving me with the overwhelming feeling of shame and humiliation. L… I had betrayed him. But what else could I do? Beyond would have his way no matter what I did. So why should I go through so much pain when I could spare myself by just giving in? I shook myself. If I started asking myself that, then I _would_ give in, and he would win. I would be as good as dead. But I knew, deep within my heart… I knew that no matter what happened, Beyond would find a way to win, a way to force me to submit. I wouldn't be able to hold off for long against the torture. Beyond was too merciless, too cruel. He would win. He would always win.

"I'm sorry, L," I whispered, tears welling behind my eyes. Hot, salty liquid dripped down my cheeks, joining the vile mixture of liquids already staining the table. "But I don't know how long I'll be able to hold out."

 **Wow… that was disturbingly fun to write. I actually didn't think I'd be able to get this edited and posted in time, seeing as it's the Fourth of July, but I actually finished way early. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and leave a review if you did!**


	10. The Sight

**Welcome to chapter ten! This one was a serious challenge, and I really hope I did okay in the last scene with explaining what path the story will be taking. It was extremely difficult to write while still keeping relatively in line with the rules of the Death Note and memory loss/gain.**

 **Thank you if you left a review on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one—and I** _ **really**_ **hope I don't confuse anyone with that final scene.**

 **Chapter 10: The Sight**

L's fingers drummed restlessly on the top of his desk. One hand rested listlessly on the computer mouse, scrolling down the document displayed on his computer screen without really taking any of it in. His mind was elsewhere, as it had been since Light was taken. Of course, he'd done his best to make sure neither the task force nor the successors could tell how unfocused he really was—but the successors, at least, seemed to have figured out how shaken Light's capture had left him. Every moment he spent in the investigation room, knowing that Beyond no doubt had his hands all over Light at that very moment, made him feel more and more restless. He longed to throw himself from the dark, dreary investigation room and sprint from the building, to let his feet carry him to Light's side. He wanted to escape the monitor and its dull, infernal glow. He wanted to flee the stifling silence. He wanted to duck out on his responsibilities and forget that with every moment he wasted in the investigation room, Beyond could be doing any number of indescribable things to the teen he now had in his possession. But most of all, L wanted Light. He wanted to pull the teen close and shield him from the outside world, to stitch up his wounds and hide him from Beyond forever. He wanted to be close to the teen, to kiss away his pain. But as long as Light remained in Beyond's hands, none of his desires could come to fruition. It was infuriating, sitting around chasing shadows while Light suffered. It made L's heart twist painfully in his chest.

"This is hopeless," Mello murmured, breaking the silence.

There was a slight rustle as papers shifted, then the squeaking of wheels as a chair spun around. "Mello!" Matt snapped harshly. His eyes darted to L nervously, fearing his reaction.

"No," L responded flatly, eyes staring blankly straight ahead. "He's right." The detective tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind just kept drifting back to Light. "It… it's been ten days."

A terrible silence settled over the task force. Each member paused their work, looking to the source of the noise. Mello's voice was the first sound to break the silence in many days, and each person seemed eager to listen to something other than the dull hum of the computers.

"It is entirely possible…" L went on painfully, "…that Light is already dead."

"Don't say that!" Soichiro snapped, his fist slamming against his desk. "You said yourself that Beyond wants to use him as bait, so he'll keep him alive!"

"No," L said softly. "He doesn't have to keep him alive to use him as bait. The mere hope that he still draws breath is enough to keep us searching for him. In fact, the best thing to do at this point would be to give up, don't you think? We're not accomplishing anything, and our time could be much better spent on other things." He didn't believe that. He didn't believe a word of it, and after the words left his lips, he wanted to snatch them back and pretend they'd never slipped out. He cared for Light, cared for him so, so much… He wouldn't give up. But despite his desire to take back the venomous words, he said nothing.

Mello, Mat, and Near froze the instant L's words hit their ears, shared expressions of horror on their faces.

" _Give up?"_ Soichiro roared. "Don't you _dare_ tell me to give up on my son! He's got to be alive, and we've got to find him!"

"Of course we're going to find him!" Matt leapt to his feet and reached for L, pulling him up. "There's every possibility that he's still alive, and even if he's not, we're still going to work towards recovering him!"

Soichiro glared viciously as Matt began to pull L from the room. "Excuse us," he said hurriedly, motioning for Mello and Near to follow him. "We need to have a little talk."

The instant they were in a place where they wouldn't be heard, Matt whirled around and curled his fingers into L's collar, shaking him vigorously. "How can you say we should give up?" he demanded harshly, emotionally. "He's your boyfriend! You can't just forget about him and move on!"

L's eyes were blank. He felt empty, useless. He should take his words back, should explain to the successors what had possessed him to say such a terrible thing. But words escaped him, flitted on the edges of his mind. He felt terribly listless, but was unable to find a way to rid himself of that nervous energy. What was the point of being the world's three greatest detectives if he couldn't even find one man? "I'm depressed," he said flatly. "Excuse me for being down about the fact that the one person that cared for me as much as I did him is being tortured at this very moment."

Matt released him and took a step back, his expression one of horror. "L, you can't give up! Light is counting on you to find him! What is he going to think if he suffers through Beyond's torture and then _dies_ because you refused to continue looking for him?"

That wasn't going to happen. L would continue looking, no matter what, and he would find Light. He wanted to explain, to tell the successors that the words hadn't been his own—but his jaw seemed locked. Why couldn't he tell the successors that he hadn't meant it? Why were his words so useless, so venomous? L's mind whirred furiously, forcing him to consider Matt's question. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to imagine what Light was enduring for _him_. And if after all that, the teen thought that L wasn't coming, that he'd left him…Light would be distraught. He would think that L had abandoned him.

Near pushed Matt aside gently, asking, "Is this because you don't want to put all of us in danger? Is it because you think that you're leading us right into Beyond's hands? Because that _monster_ is going to go after us no matter what we do, whether or not you decide to lead us in pursuit of him. So you shouldn't have any qualms about leading us towards Beyond in an attempt to track Light down. You could _save his life._ "

"I might bring him to death." And that part _was_ true. But no matter what, L knew that he couldn't just give up. He would do anything to get Light back, even if it all amounted to nothing, and Light was already dead. So why couldn't he say it?

"L, I want you to listen to me very carefully." Near leaned one arm on the wall beside L's head, keeping his voice even and calm despite the flickers of irritation in his eyes. "If you do nothing, Light Yagami is going to die. And if you do nothing, his death will be on your conscience. His blood will be splattered across your hands for the rest of your life."

L's felt his expression of calm crumple. No… why was Near saying this? He knew that already, he did! He wouldn't just leave Light to die! His knees buckled against his will, and he was suddenly kneeling on the ground, hands pulling at his hair. "Light…" he choked out, fighting a swell of panic building in his chest. "Light!"

Matt shot a chastising look in Near's direction, dropping to his knees and placing a comforting hand on L's shoulder. "You don't have to be alone on this," he assured the kneeling detective. "Listen—if Beyond really does intend to use Light as bait for you, then you'll need to have a way to _find_ him. That means he will have left some clue as to Light's location. He hasn't just disappeared; there _is_ something we've overlooked, and there _is_ a way to find Light before he dies. We can do this, L. But you have to come to your senses!"

L's eyes widened as he stared at the floor unseeingly. His mind refused to stop producing Light's face around every corner. Everywhere he looked he saw the teen staring back, demanding to know why he hadn't saved him yet, why he hadn't pulled him from perdition. He knew that it was a figment of his imagination, his mind's way of coping with the grief that was plucking at the strings of his mind. But his own mind was steadily wearing away at his sanity, and it was seemed harder and harder to focus. "I… I don't want to remember," he said after a moment. "I just want to run away and forget."

"You can't."

They were the first words Mello had spoken to him since the investigation room. L eyed him hesitantly. "You were the one that said it was pointless."

He flinched, but he looked angry. "Damn it, L! I was wrong, okay? It's not pointless, I was just upset that we were all so incapable of finding any clues! You're a complete moron if you think that I really believe there's no hope for him! Now, you are going to get up, go in there, and find your boyfriend if it kills you!"

Those words brought a startling bolt of clarity. The haze in L's mind lifted for just a moment, and the figments of Light he'd been seeing were suddenly gone. The death grip on his vocal cords loosened mercifully. "You're right," he rasped. "Light… he told me that it wasn't my fault. But no matter what he says, I know that it was."

"If you really think it's your fault," Mello growled, "then _find_ him and make things right! Sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn't helping anyone!"

He was right, of course. "I don't really think that," L muttered. "I don't think that we should give up."

"Of course you don't!" Mello snapped angrily. "You're not allowed to give up even if you want to!"

Near interrupted, "You are L. L does not give up. And more importantly, L never leaves a case unsolved. Is Beyond going to be the one to change that?"

"No… no, of course not."

"Then let's find him, shall we?"

L couldn't smile. He wanted to, just to show his successors that he felt slightly better—but his lips refused to move into any expression save the one he was currently wearing. So he settled for looking up at the three teens, all of who were standing around him, wearing identical expressions of concern. He offered them a small nod, then got to his feet, brushing his pants off. He wanted to tell them everything—how empty he felt, the ever-growing panic filling his chest, the way he kept seeing Light at every turn—but the words wouldn't come to him, and he didn't have the will to force them. Slowly, L pushed past his successors and began to trudge back to that dreary investigation room, that hostile computer monitor.

He would find Beyond, he vowed. He would find him and bring him to justice. And when he did, he would wrest Light from his captor, and never let him out of his sight again.

†††

How many days had it been? Five days, ten, twenty? I'd lost count, to be honest. At first I'd used the torture sessions as a gauge to count the days, but then they had begun happening twice, or even three times a day. It was always the same. Beyond would enter the steel room in the morning with his cart of tools and he would set to work with whatever new method he had chosen that day. In the past few days I'd been forced to endure things that I'd only ever read about in books, or seen in movies. I'd been sliced, burned, electrocuted, half-drowned—and then it had all begun anew the next session. Beyond had begun to be quite creative in his methods of torture. There were days when he would handcuff me and drag me into other rooms, each one holding some repulsive device of torture. Of all these hellish devices, the worst one, the one I saw most vividly in nightmares, was a massive glass tank that was designed to fill slowly with water while the victim was chained to the bottom. Beyond had fully taken advantage of that particular device. He seemed to revel in bringing the water level up so high that should rise even an inch higher, I would be unable to breathe. And then he would take it just a little bit further, and I really would be unable to breathe, and I had no way to beg him to stop, even when I felt darkness edging at my vision, and knew that I would fall unconscious if I was left alone for even a moment longer. But Beyond, the bastard, knew exactly how much I could take, and he exceeded at inching just above that level but not leaving me dead. There were several times that I thought he might be about to kill me, thought that I might be able to fade away—but Beyond was too careful for that. Even when I lost consciousness in that terrible tank of water, felt overcome with lightheadedness under that merciless knife, felt my heart skip a beat under the cruel fingers of electricity, I always came back. I always woke up, coughing water from my lungs on a soaked stone floor, writhing in a pool of my own blood, strapped down to a table still ringing with electricity.

Every day ended the same way—Beyond would walk in yet again with a different cart and return to his sexual exploits. I refused to count the number of times I had been forced to beg for him, or take the monster down my throat. I discovered soon enough that he had a repulsive assortment of tools to serve the purpose of torturing me in that most intimate way, and it wasn't long before I was painfully familiar with each of them. And of course, I'd been reintroduced to that phallic toy several times after the initial incident, but Beyond had been careful to make sure that all pleasure had been driven from the experience. Instead I was torn open again and again, forced to scream and beg for mercy that never came. It was agonizing, and if effectively made sure that I never had the strength to attempt an escape or even walk straight. When he finally pulled the horrid thing out of me, or ceased whatever torture he had planned for that day, he would strap me back down to the table, and that was normally the end of it. But the past few days he had returned to his knife the instant after he'd finished having his way with me. The pain then had seemed far greater simply due to physical and mental exhaustion, rising to the point of pure and utter hell. Slowly I could feel even my mental state beginning to degrade. I no longer had the strength to mock him or act as if I wasn't afraid. My perfect mask was cracked, and I had no way of putting it back together. I thought back to L, and the way _his_ mask had been cracked by his insistent affection for me. Being broken by affection, I thought, was far preferable to being broken by pain and fear.

Beyond knew he was winning. That was the worst part. Or maybe the worst part was that L hadn't found me yet. I shuddered at the thought, running my eyes down my battered body. I didn't want to think about the various scars that would cover my body by the time I saw L again. _If_ I saw L again. I was slowly beginning to doubt that he would find me. But I knew that he would do everything in his power to locate me. I was sure…he would find me no matter what it took. If he hadn't rescued me by now, then he must simply have been able to find no clues to lead him to Beyond. I couldn't blame him if Beyond had covered his tracks so well that not even he could find me. It wouldn't be his fault… not really.

 _What happened to saving myself?_ I thought bitterly. _What happened to protecting L no matter what?_ Somewhere along the way, I'd completely dropped the notion of rescuing myself. I wasn't sure quite when it had happened, only that once it did, all I could think about was L, and how long it would be before he either found me or gave up. I wasn't an idiot—I knew that by this point, it would be nearly impossible for me to even _attempt_ escape. I was too weak, my body too battered. But I could still hope for L to find me. It was funny… I'd spent so much time worrying about him, worrying about Beyond hurting him or putting him in danger. But I was beginning to realize, more and more as time went on, that maybe L wasn't the one that needed to be protected.

Maybe, just maybe… the weak one was _me._

I heard the door open. Immediately I wanted to run, to leap to my feet and scramble away from the man standing in the doorway, the man who wanted to hurt me. But though the thought of running consumed my mind, I barely did so much as to pull weakly at my restraints.

My captor was moving. Beyond eyed me savagely as he moved into the room, approaching the table with the usual cart nowhere in sight. He ran his fingers lightly over my chest, choosing a place just over my heart and pressing lightly. I didn't make a sound despite the horrible jolt that tore through me. He had done nothing to ease the pain in my cracked ribs, and they seemed to be growing worse with each passing day. I feared that they were beginning to heal incorrectly.

"How are you today, Light?" Beyond asked with false concern.

I shook my head weakly, trying to ward him off without moving the rest of my body.

He laughed softly at the display. His fingers reached out, and he began combing them through my hair in a deceptively affectionate gesture.

"We're going to try something different today," he said after a few moments of silence. He held up a pair of handcuffs, prompting a shudder from me. He slipped them onto my wrists and pulled me to my feet, extending a hand to my shoulder when he thought I was going to fall over. These were the moments I didn't understand—how he could go from carving into my flesh to supporting me in a matter of seconds. He walked me back down the steel hallway, constantly in the act of supporting me lest I fall, and for a terrible moment I thought he was going to turn and enter the room with the tank he'd used to nearly drown me. Fortunately he passed that room and led me into a different one. A new one. This room had what appeared to be a dental chair, a table with two black notebooks and a pen, and a stand with a few towels. Beyond sat me down in the chair and unlocked the handcuffs. He bound my arms and legs to the chair with a series of straps, then moved on to place one around my chest and another around my hips. One smaller strap was even secured around my neck, reminding me of a collar.

"What are you going to do?" I managed. My voice was raspy and weak. I'd been given water at some point, I knew—I'd have to have drank _something,_ or I wouldn't still be alive—but it had been far too long since then, and my throat felt like sandpaper.

He pulled up a chair I hadn't seen before and sat down. "Today I'm going to tell you a story."

A flicker of disbelief flared within me. There was no way he'd hauled me to this room just to tell me a story. What was he up to?

Noting my disbelief, Beyond said, "Relax, my Light. If you don't calm down, you won't be able to listen to my story!" He reached over and picked up one of the black notebooks. "Let me begin my explaining something to you. Normally, when I have someone that I want to break, I start by making them beg for mercy, which shatters their pride. They're allowed no clothing, no nourishment, no comfort of any kind. And of course, my victim would be taught to submit willingly to my blade." He reached out to rest his hand lightly on my shoulder, his touch feather-light and teasing. "That I have done to you already. Although, I admit that you're the first victim I've ever turned to in an intimate nature…" he leaned down, and a heartbeat later I felt his tongue sweep up my neck, sending a shudder of disgust tingling up my spine. He purred, "You're just too beautiful for your own good, Yagami." He went on, "The second step in the process of breaking a normal victim would be giving them an order, such as kneeling before me. They would be tortured until they submitted, and then the process would be repeated with another order, and another, until they were completely submissive. However, that process takes too long and isn't always completely effective. It's _especially_ not completely effective against those with a strong will, like you. And while I'd love to keep you here forever, torturing you until your mind _shatters,_ I'm afraid I just don't have the patience or the time. By the time you've been sufficiently punished, L will have found us, and all my fun will be over!" The glint in his eyes scared me. He looked even more psychotic than usual. "So I've decided to cut things a bit short. This way, I'll only have to wait a few more minutes to see my god…" His hand shot out to the table, and he snatched up one of the black notebooks. He held it up so I could see it, displaying white lettering on the front cover. "This is the Death Note," he announced with wild eyes. "It is how Kira kills his victims."

I wanted to laugh. A notebook with the power to kill? Ridiculous!

"This notebook is supernatural," he went on. "If you write someone's full name in the note, then they will die of a heart attack in forty seconds. However, if you wish, you may specify the details of the death within six minutes and forty seconds of writing the full name. This way, Kira can control victims for hours until their deaths." He opened the book and held it out for me to see, flipping through pages that contained nothing but the names of the dead, filling every inch of blank paper without fail. "These notebooks come from the shinigami realm."

"Shinigami aren't real," I rasped. _And there's nothing supernatural about those notebooks._

"You'll be proven wrong soon enough," he said smugly, waving the notebook back and forth. "Shinigami sometimes accidentally drop their notebook into the human world. And if a human picks it up, that shinigami is forced to follow the human around until they either die or give up possession of the notebook. At such a time when a human relinquishes possession of the Note, their memories of it will be lost. They can be returned temporarily by touching a Death Note, but the instant they lose contact with it their memories will once again vanish. If they kill the current owner of the notebook and reclaim possession, their memories will become theirs once again no matter if they're touching the notebook or not."

"Why are you telling me this?" I rasped. "It's absurd…" If he was Kira—and I knew that he was—then why would he reveal the secret of his power? Wasn't he afraid that I'd tell L if I ever saw him again?

"Because you used to be Kira, Light Yagami."

" _What?_ " A terrible jolt of fear shot through me. L had told me time and time again that I had to be Kira, that that was the only logical solution—I was Kira, and Misa was the second Kira. But I knew that it wasn't true; I'd never killed anyone! And even if I had, there was no way that I wouldn't remember it. There was no way that I would just _forget_ killing all those people. But… all this talk of memories, and regaining those that had been lost…could it be…?

No, it wasn't true! I couldn't be Kira. I wasn't evil!

"In fact, you were the original, before you gave up possession of the notebook to save your own life. L was closing in on you, you see, and you had no choice but to give it up. Do you remember volunteering to be put in solitary confinement until L could prove you weren't Kira?"

Of course I remembered. I remembered that it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and how later I had suddenly realized how stupid I'd been. I wasn't Kira, I was just a college student!

"You volunteered knowing that you would lose your memories once you were confined. It was all a plan, right from the beginning. You entered that cell, and once you were sure L wouldn't release you no matter what, you told your shinigami that you were giving up possession of the notebook. He took your memories and vanished, at which point you "remembered" that you weren't Kira and that it was pointless to keep you in confinement any longer. That was when your entire persona changed. You became a sweet, innocent college student, entirely dedicated to putting and end to Kira. This confused L, of course, and eventually he was forced to release you under the impression that Kira's power had jumped to a new person, when in reality _you_ were the one who gave it up." Beyond put down his notebook and reached for the other one, taking care to not touch it as he used a towel to pick it up.

"I relinquish ownership of this Death Note," he said calmly. Nothing happened. But of course, I hadn't expected anything to actually happen. The man was insane! "Now," he said holding it close to me. "If you touch this notebook, you will regain all of your memories. You will remember all the people you killed, your plots and schemes, and the fact that you worked endlessly to find a way to kill the man you now love."

"You're lying," I snapped, finally finding the energy to protest. "I would never try to kill L."

"Oh, but you did, and you will!" He brought the notebook closer to my face so it was just under my nose. "One touch and you will reclaim ownership… one touch, and I will be able to meet my god… one touch, and you will be ruined for L mentally as well as physically… And most importantly, one touch, and you will finally be ready to work beside me to _kill_ L."

A jolt of fear ran through me. Logically I knew that this was impossible, it _had_ to be… but then again, I had seen a number of impossible things since I'd joined the task force. And something in my gut was telling me that this notebook was _dangerous._

"Are you going to beg for me to leave you ignorant of your crimes?" Beyond purred, the pages millimeters from my face.

"I haven't committed any crimes to remain ignorant of," I returned, though my stomach was churning nervously.

He shrugged. "Okay then, Kira. Let's see what you think about that once you've regained your memories." And with that phrase echoing in my mind, he reached forward the last few inches and pressed the Death Note up under my chin.

My vision went red.

A torrent of memories and emotions forced their way into my unwilling mind, tearing and ravaging wherever they went. An unbelievable agony shot through my head as the ideas and actions I'd long since forgotten took hold yet again, reinstating themselves with a vengeance. I felt their claws digging into my brain and eating away at all the bits of me that had come to love L instead of hate him. _No,_ those memories snarled, tearing at L's image. _No, what have you done? Why do you feel this way? Come to your senses and understand that we must_ kill _him! What lies did he tell you to make you trust him so entirely? Did he promise to love you, to stay beside you no matter what may happen? He's lying! Don't listen to him, listen to me!_ I shook my head, struggling to get away from the thoughts, but they kept coming in torrents, as if they were flowing from some terrible wound that I had no way to heal. Those memories, those venomous scenes, sank their talons into my mind and pulled hard. A terrible strain was being put on my mind, and I could feel something, some _one_ fighting to merge with my mind, to fill the empty holes in my memory I hadn't realized existed until this very moment. A deep, powerful hatred was beginning to flow through me, and it was terrifying. Terrifying because if I dared to follow that hatred back to its source, I knew it would lead to the man I had come to care so much about. I… I'd hated him. I'd wanted to _kill_ him.

I… I was _Kira._

Oh god… L was right! I was Kira, I'd tried to kill him, I… I'd killed hundreds of people!

 _They were criminals,_ a voice whispered. _They deserved to die. All criminals deserve to die. You were right to kill execute them in the name of justice._

No, that wasn't right… you couldn't just kill other killers and call yourself an enforcer of justice! How could I have thought I was right? How could I sit back and watch those people die, knowing that I was the one who killed them? I'd been _insane._

I thought I saw Beyond watching me seriously throughout the chaos that was my mind at that moment. I found it odd that he wasn't grinning. Wasn't this his great victory, the moment he won? Wasn't my mind supposed to be splintering, breaking?

It was then that my voice gave out, and I realized that I'd been screaming. I panted furiously for breath, still attempting to hold out against my newfound hatred of the task force and my lover. Some terrible urge was yelling, _screaming_ for me to take L's life, with my bare hands if I had to. But I _refused_ to allow that to happen. I would protect L to the last breath, even if that meant protecting him from myself!

"I bet it hurts," Beyond whispered, fingertips lingering on my bare flesh. "Having two conflicting ideals waging a war inside your head."

I groaned, clashing with my new memories brutally. My mind was stretched to the breaking point, stretched between my memories and whatever furious, unrelenting force was screaming for L's head. If something didn't change, and fast, then I knew that something was going to give.

And then, in a blinding snap of pain, something did.

I felt it distinctly—something in my mind, some minute, inner thread, was clipped—and in a single instant I felt my mind split in two. All of those furious talons that had dug themselves into my mind were yanked out, and my mind was suddenly startlingly clear. The pain vanished. But… something was _wrong._ I didn't quite know how to describe it, but something felt different. It was almost as if one, tiny part of my mind had gone completely numb and been wrenched from my control. What had just happened to me?

"Well?" Beyond purred, leaning in uncomfortably close. "How do you feel, Light? Are you ready to help me murder your precious L?

I glared up at him. Something was different in my mind, yes—but that difference seemed to have given me new energy. Perhaps it wasn't a negative change after all… perhaps that anger I'd felt was a mistake, some fluke. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be allowed to throw away my old ideals and forget Kira forever.

I realized that Beyond was waiting for me to respond. No doubt he'd expected me to revert to my old ways the instant I regained my memories. _Well,_ I thought, _I'm more than happy to prove him wrong._ "Looks like you've lost, Beyond," I snarled, newfound energy flowing through me. "Memories or no, I will not allow you to harm L!"

Beyond's drew back immediately, his eyes wide, expression transforming from anticipation to confusion in the blink of an eye. "You… you won't help me?" he echoed, sounding as if he didn't understand the words. "You _do_ remember, don't you? You remember who you are? What you've _done?_ "

"I," I snarled, "am Light Yagami. I am _not_ Kira. Not anymore." As I spoke, a flicker of pain flared up in the back of my mind. "I will not join you." The pain increased for just a moment longer, then disappeared entirely. _Weird…_ I thought. _What the hell was that?_

Beyond's eyes were wide. Then, slowly, a change came over his features. "I… I was wrong? I was _wrong?_ "

Oh no… he was getting angry. I didn't want to know what he'd do when he was angry. Surprisingly, the whole time I'd been with him, he'd never shown anger—only a sadistic mix of fascination and pleasure. But now…

His eyes narrowed to slits, and when he spoke, the words didn't make sense to me. "If you refuse to accept who you are, then I will kill you."

I choked out a surprised gasp. Beyond had never threatened to kill me. I'd just assumed, this whole time, that I would end up dead—but those words had never left his lips until this very moment. I didn't want to die…I wanted to live to see L again. But if living meant embracing who I had been before I lost my memories…

I stared up at him steadily, ignoring the ever-increasing pain in the back of my mind. "Then kill me. I will not become Kira once more."

Beyond let out a low, animalistic snarl. He flung the Death Note to the table beside him, his eyes locked on me furiously. No, furiously wasn't the right word—the emotion he was feeling, the rage, the venom, was well beyond my descriptive powers. His hand darted out so fast that it nearly blurred my vision, and when my eyes refocused, he was holding a knife. So… this was it. He was going to kill me.

"I don't want to do this," Beyond growled. "If you submit to Kira, become him once more, then I will allow you to live. I urge you to follow that course of action."

"I will not submit." _Not this time. This is too important._

"I will torture you until you do."

"Beyond," I hissed, "no amount of torture will make me embrace Kira's ways once again. I would rather die."

His eyes flickered up and down my form, filled with that indescribable anger. "Very well," he said shortly, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. He reached for me, knife in hand, and pressed the very tip of the blade to my throat. He paused then, seemingly waiting for me to change my mind.

I would not. I would not become Kira again. So I raised my chin, staring into the murderer's eyes, and waited for the flick of his wrist that would end my life.

†††

"We've got something!" Near announced, pushing himself back from the computer. "Come look at this!"

The rest of the task force gathered around his computer with hopeful eyes.

"Beyond messed up," Near explained. He was clearly trying to appear calm and collected, but his voice contained a slight tremor of excitement, and his fingers shook slightly as he rested his hand on the computer mouse. "I've been keeping an eye on local police reports just in case something came up that would give us a hint as to Beyond's whereabouts. And it looks like it's finally paid off." He turned the monitor so the task force and surrounding geniuses could see it. "Two nights ago, it appears that a few teens from a local high school attempted to throw a party with a small group of their peers. In the report it says that they were looking for somewhere they could have fun without being caught, and they decided to go to a warehouse that was shut down just last week. They approached the building only to hear water rushing through the pipes, and something clanging around inside. Naturally, they were scared, since the building was supposed to be abandoned, and had been boarded up for many days. They called the police and filed a report, but the police didn't look into it since it wasn't urgent."

"How is that any different from any other police report?" Mello snapped irritably. "It's just some lousy teenagers getting scared by their own shadow!"

"Because," Near responded, "I messaged those teens—via a secure server, of course—and questioned them about the incident, just in case it was anything worthwhile. And they said that last night they went back to the warehouse to investigate since the police weren't going to. They hid out and waited to see if anything happened, and they saw something."

"What was it?" Matt asked eagerly, standing on his toes to peer over Mello's shoulder.

"They described a tall man emerging from the building. A man with black hair, yellow-orange eyes, and wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and jeans."

The investigation room fell silent.

"And after that man left, the teenagers went back up to the warehouse and heard someone screaming."

More silence.

Then, "What warehouse?"

Near looked back at L. The detective's eyes were shimmering with something akin to hope, overshadowed by a thick layer of fear. "The Silver Warehouse."

"Silver Warehouse," L repeated quietly. "Could it be…?"

"It has to be!" Matt burst out excitedly.

"This is good," Matt said, a glint of hope in his eyes. "We should go check it out right now!"

"It could be a trap," L said slowly. He rubbed at his bottom lip. It's entirely possible that Beyond is trying to draw us in, and knew full well that the teenagers were watching. We may want to wait a day or so before we arrive, just in case his trap is based off of our time of arrival."

Mello rolled his eyes. "And what if Beyond left Light bleeding out in that warehouse so that you would find him on the brink of death? If we don't go, then there's a strong possibility that Light will die."

L agreed after a moment's consideration. "You're right, of course. Chief Yagami, I would like you and your team to arm yourselves appropriately and accompany the successors and me to the warehouse."

Soichiro opened his mouth to say something, but L cut him off.

"I must remind you that the longer you take, the more likely it is that Light will be killed before we can reach him."

Soichiro's jaws snapped shut. Without another word, he gave a gruff nod and motioned to the rest of the task force. It was only a few moments later that the room was completely vacated as the members of the task force headed in the direction of the armory to retrieve guns and sufficient safety gear.

The instant they were gone, L spoke. "Successors," he said softly. "You will be entering the building with me. We will stay together at all times, no matter what. If we get out of there, we're doing it together."

Each successor nodded grimly. "We're behind you no matter what, L," Matt assured him

He dipped his head in thanks. "Thank you… "

Mello shook his head with a grin, leaning against the wall. "Whatever. We'll go get your boyfriend back and solve the Kira case. Easy."

"Yes," L agreed, a smile hanging weakly on his face. "Let's go get him back."

†††

I raised my chin, staring into the Beyond's eyes, and waited for the flick of his wrist that would end my life. But a moment later, when the murderer's knife hadn't left my throat, and I was still alive, I looked back up at him in confusion.

Beyond's knife flicked away from my neck without leaving a mark. "I will kill you," he assured me. "But first…"

His hands went to he leather straps holding me in place, swiftly releasing them. I was free—but my muscles were locked, and I found myself unable to move. Beyond's hands found my shoulders, and the next moment he was pulling me up and whirling me around, slamming me back onto the chair face-first. I immediately turned my face to one side, pressing my cheek into the cool material of the chair so I wouldn't be suffocated. I felt the leather straps back on my arms and legs, twisting my limbs uncomfortably. Curiously, Beyond didn't place any straps across my back or waist. I heard metal clinking against the nearby table, then something cool on my back. Then there was a slight nip of pain, and warm liquid began to trail slowly down my skin. He'd cut me.

"If I'm going to have to kill you, then I'll at least use you to send a message to L." His voice was still laced with fury. Cool fingers trailed across my back, settling firmly over the back of my left shoulder. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I knew that he was still clutching that damn knife. There was another prick of pain. Then that prick became a jolt as I felt Beyond's knife sink painfully into the back of my shoulder, sending lightning bolts of pain lacing up my spine. Warm liquid dripped in steady trails down my flesh as Beyond pressed down even harder, slicing deeply into the muscle.

"Did you notice?" Beyond hissed lowly, dragging his knife down just an inch. "All this time, all this torture… I left your back untouched. Do you know why?"

I shook my head, both answering his question and protesting what he was doing.

"You really don't know?" He wrenched the knife down my back, forcing a screech from my cracked lips. The blade of his knife drug a curved line from shoulder blade to mid-back, forming a horrifyingly deep wound. He'd never cut this deep before. "Well then, I guess you'll just have to wait and see what happens." He removed the knife and stabbed it back into my flesh, barley an inch from the first line. He jerked the blade down again, just as harshly, forming another curved line to run parallel to the first. The next slice curved around in two half domes. Four more small slashes stemmed from the first. Then, in an agonizingly slow drag of blade against flesh, Beyond began to connect the lines, drawing some terrible design across the left side of my back.

"There…" Beyond purred. "That's one down…"

Steel met skin, and Beyond was suddenly repeating the action, repeating that same damn pattern barely an inch from the first. Each motion send near unbearable jolts of pain running through me, but I had not the strength to cry out in more than a whimper. I had no choice but to lay there, helpless and bleeding, as Beyond carved out his vile design.

"This will _scar,"_ Beyond whispered in my ear, still slicing deeper and deeper, forcing the blood to run faster and faster. "You're already going to be covered in scars… or at least, you _would_ be if I was going to let you _live_. But despite all these future scars, something tells me that when L sees _this_ one, it will send a more effective message than even the most renowned masters of the written word could accomplish. I hissed through clenched teeth as a particularly deep line was scored across my flesh.

"W-what do you mean?" I stuttered.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Beyond began to connect the lines, copying the first design he'd etched. "You and L are going to _match_ , Light! Doesn't that make you happy?"

We were going to match? What the hell was that supposed to m—?

Oh. A flash of horror ran through me as I realized just what Beyond was doing. L… he had a scar on his back, stretching from shoulder to mid-back on the left side… and that scar, it spelled out—

"My name looks so beautiful in red," Beyond sighed. His knife halted, and the next moment it was being yanked harshly out of my back and held away from my flesh. "Don't you agree, Light? Oh, but… you can't see it, can you? That's too bad." I felt his fingers trailing through the blood dripping from the wounds. "It's too bad you've lived out your usefulness… I was so hoping that you'd return to being Kira. Actually, I _knew_ you'd return to being Kira. And yet here we are. It seems that I was _wrong._ Isn't that strange?" I felt a rustle of movement, then the next moment Beyond was turning me over. He must have undone the straps momentarily. I winced as the rough material of the dentist's chair came into contact with my damaged back.

"You'll bleed out faster this way," he whispered, lips a mere inch from mine. "The blood will drip, and drip, and drip until you can't find the strength to keep yourself alive… or at least, that's what would happen if I weren't about to slit your throat." In emphasis, he raised his bloodied knife and pressed it against my neck, the other hand darting out and gripping my hair to hold me in place. "I want you to know that L is going to find you here," he purred. "The instant your body begins to cool, I'll send him a message and lead him here just so he can find your body. Won't that be fun, Light? Don't you want that?"

I wanted to shake my head, to tell him no—but that knife was pressing into my throat with savage intent, and I knew that even the smallest of motions would push the blade into the skin. Besides, I didn't think I could move if I wanted to. I felt lightheaded, weak… I'd lost a lot of blood, I knew. Beyond had cut far deeper than he ever had before. _That's because he intends to kill me,_ I realized dimly.

"Such a shame," Beyond went on. The knife rubbed back and forth against the flesh of my throat, barely cutting the skin. Beads of red gathered on the thin wound. "I really don't want to kill you… but if you won't embrace Kira, then I really have no use for you. And killing you will cause L so much pain, it just might be worth it! After all, it wasn't _you_ I was obsessed with, it was _Kira._ "

Fear ran through me like a knife. I wanted to speak, but that lightheadedness was growing at an alarming rate. I felt like I was going to pass out. And once that happened, I didn't know if I'd be waking up again.

"Don't worry," the murderer sneered, seemingly not realizing how faint I was. "I'll tell L that you love him."

Oh, right… I'd never told L that I loved him. Did I love him? I thought that the answer might have been yes, had I ever been given the chance to tell him.

 _It's a shame,_ I thought, fighting the wave of drowsiness pulling at my senses. _I went through all this with the intent of not hurting L, but I didn't realize that my death would hurt him more than anything else…_

Beyond's arm drew back, blade positioned above my throat. One slash, and it would all be over.

 _Sorry…_ I thought sleepily. _I'm sorry, L. I'm just so tired… maybe I'll rest. Just for a while, I'll let myself rest._

†††

I was standing in a field of grass.

All around me, grass covered the ground in sheets, only broken up by tiny flowers that rose from the ground in tufts. Somewhere far out, well beyond my reach, great oak trees dappled the horizon, surrounding the field entirely save for in one direction. In that one direction, rather than the field terminating in trees, it slowly faded into a rocky landscape. And beyond that, there appeared to be a cliff. Looking up, I saw that the sky above me was filled with light, fluffy clouds, drifting along on the minute breeze flowing through the whole place.

Was I dead? Was this some version of heaven? But no… I couldn't go to heaven nor hell. With the return of my memories had come the return of the knowledge that when I died, I would be condemned to Mu. It was the price of using the Death Note, a price that I had eagerly accepted. This was not heaven, nor was it hell, and it certainly wasn't Mu. Where was I, then?

I took a step forward, expecting to feel the pain of my injuries. But to my surprise, all my pain was gone. I looked down at my body, and gasped. Not only were my wounds gone, I was fully clothed again! I was back in the clothing I'd been wearing that last day in the investigation room. A collared shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. Raising a hand, I ran a hand through my hair, not believing what was right in front of me. What the hell was this? It sure as hell wasn't reality.

"Where is this?" I spoke aloud, and realized with surprise that my voice sounded distorted, as if I were underwater.

"You mean you don't know?"

I jumped, startled beyond words at the familiar voice that sounded from behind me. Whirling around, I was met with the familiar sight of a young boy with black hair and yellowish orange eyes. This time he was wearing an undershirt, plaid jacket, and shorts. Once again, his shoes were absent. "It's you!" I managed.

"Yes, very observant. It is indeed I."

"How are you here? Does this mean you really are a hallucination? Is _all_ of this a hallucination?"

The boy sighed. "So many questions, so few answers." He gestured to the land around us. "Tell me, Light, what do you see around you?"

I frowned, looking around at the landscape. "I see grass. And trees, and flowers, and clouds."

"Is there anything strange about it?"

Yes, actually… there was something very strange about it. Everything in this place was made of silver. The grass, the trees, the flowers, the clouds, the sky itself… it was all a metallic shade of gray, highlighted by darker shades and lighter shades on all ends of the spectrum. I felt as if I were standing in the negative of a photo. "It's… silver. Everything is silver." _Which means that this isn't reality… it's something else._

"And what about yourself?"

I looked down at myself again. I too was silver. If I touched my arm, my face, my hair, it felt completely normal. But it was all silver. But unlike the rest of this strange place, my form was blue as well. It was a light blue, mixed in thoroughly with the silver, only recognizable if you were looking for it. "Silver," I responded belatedly. "But… there's some blue there too, isn't there?"

"Yes, Light. And what am I?"

He was just like me. His tiny form was made entirely of the metallic substance, but… just like me, there was another color mixed in lightly. "You're silver too. But you're like me… there's another color mixed in."

"Yes. I am orange, am I not?"

"Yes, actually, you are. Do you mean you can't tell for yourself?"

The boy looked away abruptly. "My eyes are not the same as yours, Light. I cannot see the things you do. Color is not something that is fully accessible to me."

"That's… that's sad," I said. "You really can't see color?"

"Not entirely," he responded. "I can see some things. I can tell that the world is silver, and I can tell that you emit a gentle glow of blue. But I cannot see anything else. Your form is barely distinguishable to me."

"That's fascinating… what are you?" I thought that I already knew—but I wanted to hear it from him.

The boy's eyes locked onto mine. Unlike the rest of his form, they remained a sharp, contrasting yellowish orange. "I'm a hallucination."

"No, no you're not," I argued. "I've seen you too many times, and it felt too real."

"Hallucinations can feel so real that people mistake them for reality," the boy answered.

I insisted, "This is different! _You're_ different!"

The boy shrugged, looking away. "I'm not so different."

"You know what this place is, don't you? What is it?"

"This?" He swept an arm out to gesture to the entirety of our surroundings. "I'm surprised you don't recognize it."

I shook my head upon receiving his inquiring gaze.

He sighed. "You're unconscious, Light. You've lost copious amounts of blood, and have thus failed to retain awareness. This dream, this landscape, this world of silver… it's in your head."

"My… my head?" I echoed. The impossibility of that statement hit me like a train, and I wanted to laugh. The idea of having a conversation with someone else inside my own mind was ridiculous… but I had seen more ridiculous things than _that_ over the past few months. I looked around me, finding new meaning in everything I saw. If this was my mind, then why was everything so gray? Was I such a boring person that my mind couldn't manage to produce any color other than dull, dull blue and orange?

"Yes, Light. Your mind. You're dreaming. But dreams are not without meaning."

A dream… I looked up at the sky, wondering if when Beyond killed me, all of this would fall apart as my heart stopped beating. "Great… so when does this all end? When I passed out, Beyond was about to kill me. So how long will it be before this dream ends, and I die?"

The boy blinked at me in surprise. "I believe I told you that you were going to survive this."

"How can I?" I snapped back. "I don't think you understand—he was holding a _knife_ to my _throat._ I was _bleeding out!_ How the hell does that not end in my death?"

"You will survive," the boy repeated, not bothering to explain further.

I sighed, realizing that the boy wasn't going to tell me anything else. Changing the subject, I asked, "Why are we here? Why are you here?"

"That's simple. We are here because I need to show you something."

I frowned, confused. "Show me what?"

The boy pointed over my shoulder towards the horizon. Still frowning, I whirled around to look to where he was gesturing, and saw… nothing. The boy was gesturing towards that rocky area at the end of the field, the area that terminated in a sharp cliff. The world over the horizon in that direction was just as silver as it was here—the only difference was that instead of trees and grass, the landscape was completely rocky and barren. "What is it?" I asked, confused. "The rocks?"

"No. What lies beyond." The boy began to walk through the grass, motioning for me to follow. "Come with me, Light. There is something that you need to see."

I hesitantly walked after the boy, staring over the horizon. With every step I took the world seemed to warp around me, bending the rules of space and time, and it was only a few moments later that I arrived at that rocky area, the boy at my side. He pushed me gently towards the edge of the cliff, and I obeyed his silent command to look over the edge. I walked until I was standing a mere inch away from the edge of the cliff, then cast my gaze out over the horizon. For a long moment I just stared, not registering what I was seeing. Then my mind caught up with my eyes, and I stifled a gasp. "What is _that?_ " I rasped in a soft tone. I stared out over the side of the cliff, looking to what rested beyond, and saw…nothing. After the edge of the cliff, the world turned a violent shade of metallic red and faded into nothingness. The sky was the color of blood, and the water that lapped at the side of the cliff was colored the deepest scarlet I'd ever seen. It was as if my mindscape simply… ended. I turned back to the boy, who had seated himself on a rock beside me. "What is this?" I demanded. "Why does it end? Why is it _red?"_

"Your mind is supposed to infinitely expand in all directions," the boy responded lowly. "Even in a dream. That is the nature of the human mind—to expand infinitely inwards, making room for new information and memories. But yours does not, Light."

"What… what's wrong with me?" I was immediately reminded of the building pain I'd felt in the back of my head right before I fell unconscious. Did that have something to do with… _this?_

The boy ignored me. "Beyond wanted to break your mind. Did he succeed, I wonder? He might have. After all…" he gestured out at the endless sea of red. As I watched, the red bubbled like lava, and lurched upwards, climbing the cliff by just a few inches. Had… had that sea just _expanded?_ "…All of this was not here just a few short minutes ago."

It wasn't? But it spread so _far…_ as far as the eye could see! Had all of this happened in such a short amount of time? "What caused it?" I whispered, though I suspected I knew the answer.

"Your memories."

I winced. That's what I'd feared. "What does it mean?" The sea of red lurched, and the next moment, to my horror, a splatter of that red spat up onto the silver rocks, staining the surface a violent, bloody color.

"It's growing," the boy murmured, eyes locked on the spatter of red. "It's growing, and it's growing quickly." He looked up at me suddenly. "If this continues, Light, your whole mind will be consumed by the red sea."

The red sea… I had a feeling that it wasn't a good thing. "What is the red sea?"

The boy gestured to the red, which was flowing and churning like the waves of a massive ocean. "Look, Light. Gaze into the waters and you will understand."

Frowning deeply, I slowly edged to the precipice and gazed down into the red. I realized that just in the time I'd been speaking to the boy, the waters had risen to the top of the cliff. I knelt, weary of the red staining the silver rocks beside me, and gazed deeply into the red water. For a long moment I saw nothing but the swirling, churning liquid. Sickeningly, it reminded me of blood. Then, slowly, as I kept my eyes locked on the water's surface, I noticed something changing. In a single moment, the water went completely still. And a heartbeat later, that stillness vanished just as swiftly as it had begun. Ripples spread out across the surface as if someone had dropped a stone into the water—and the epicenter of said ripples rested mere feet from where I stood. The ripples continued to move, flowing outwards until they passed well beyond my field of vision. And that epicenter, the center of the current, was moving closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. Closer to me.

I dropped to my knees against my better judgment, hands gripping the side of the cliff. I leaned out slowly until I was positioned directly above the center of those ripples. I stared down at the epicenter. It was mesmerizing, enthralling, hypnotic… despite myself, I leaned closer to the water. The ripples gathered directly below my head, increasing in size and frequency. They grew faster and faster, larger and larger, until finally, they completely stopped. For a long moment, there was nothing. No ripples, no noise, no motion.

And then I heard a massive splash, and water roared up all around me. I let out a surprised yelp, immediately attempting to draw away from the water before it swallowed me in a torrent of red. But to my horror, the instant I tried to draw back, something shot out of the water and wrapped around my wrist. My mind went into a fit of panic, and momentarily I found myself unable to move as I struggled to process what was gripping my arm. It was… it was a _hand!_ There was a hand clenched around my wrist, its fingers a startlingly red contrast against my silver skin. As I was made of silver, the hand was made of scarlet—and where it touched my skin, some of that red bled out over my flesh, staining it a deep, ugly red.

"What—?" I choked out, barely able to breathe as I stared at that hand. The red sea had reared up, and I was surrounded by walls of water on three sides. I wrenched against that hand, struggling to escape. I didn't know how, but I knew that this water, this hand, was dangerous. But as I tugged to get away, whatever was gripping onto me was rising from the depths. An arm emerged from the water, then a shoulder, and a scarlet head of hair. And before I knew what was happening, a being made of scarlet was suddenly standing on the cliff beside me, fingers curled into my collar. Everywhere that hand touched, red stained my form. Where the being stood, the silver earth turned crimson. Behind him, the sea level had risen so it lapped at the being's heels. But it wasn't just a being, was it? There was something unnerving about the person, something unsettling—and I knew what that something was.

The being… it was _me._ It was a twisted version of me, a version with metallic scarlet skin and matching eyes. But just like Beyond compared to L, something about this version of me was _off._ Maybe it was the twisted sneer on my double's face, the way his fingers so cruelly gripped me, or the murderous glint in his eyes.

"Light," he greeted with a savage smile. "I've been waiting for you for oh, so long… it's so good to finally see you!"

I was completely frozen. My muscles were locked in place, eyes frozen on my double. I had that feeling again—that same feeling I'd experienced when I laid eyes on the Death Note before I regained my memories—the feeling that whoever this was, _whatever_ he was, he was _dangerous._

My double drew me closer, and I felt my chest brush his as he snarled in my ear, "You ruined quite a lot for me, you know, by falling for that damn detective. I'll have to fix that once you let me back in…"

"L-let you back in?" I echoed. "What do y-you mean? Who a-are you?"

His lips pursed in a pout. "You mean you don't recognize me? I'm disappointed, Light. We were so close for a while there…"

I stared into those scarlet eyes, a flicker of understanding passing through me. This being… could it be? My double was reaching up towards my face, and the next moment his fingers were locked in my hair.

"You understand, don't you?" my double purred. "Who I am? What I intend to do to you? By the time I'm done with you, you'll be tripping over yourself in your haste to take L's life…"

There was a low growl from behind me. "That's enough!" the boy spat, and his sudden interruption made my jump. I'd forgotten he was there. "Back away!"

I wasn't sure if he was talking to my double or me, but I decided that it must have been directed at both of us. I immediately pulled back, and to my relief, my double's grip was broken. He stepped back to the edge of the water. But to my horror, the places his feet had touched the grass remained scarlet. I had a bad feeling about that color, that ink that was slowly climbing across the rocks. The sea level was still rising at an alarming rate, and before I knew it I was being forced to step back. The boy's tiny fingers curled around my wrist, and I felt him tugging me back away from the red sea.

"Light," the boy insisted, tugging me around so I couldn't see the water. "We must go. It is not safe to remain here any longer."

I wanted to turn back to my double. I wanted to know who he was, why he was there. And as the boy pulled me faster and faster away from the water, I did glance back, and to my confusion, there was no being standing in the scarlet liquid. My double was gone, as if he'd melted into the water itself. His disappearance only added to my confusion.

"Don't look back," the boy ordered shortly. He pulled me even faster, and the ground seemed to warp around us, moving beneath our feet in leaps and bounds when in reality we took mere steps away from the water. A moment later, when I turned back to the scarlet, it was a mere hue against the silver horizon.

"What was that?" I demanded the instant we came to a halt. We were standing amongst trees now, in some sort of wooded glen. "Who was that?"

"Let's not ask questions that we already know the answers to," the boy murmured.

I stared down at him. The boy was nearly two feet shorter than me, but he seemed to tower far above his true height. He watched me evenly, seemingly waiting for my response. And finally, I gave it to him. "You… you said that the red sea was caused by me regaining my memories, right? And that person… he was an evil, but he was _me._ So, I suppose… the only thing that makes sense… is that that person is the product of my personality and ideals before I lost my memories. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is correct. But you're not being fully honest with yourself, are you Light?" He moved closer, staring up boldly into my eyes. "You know, that version of yourself, that twisted, sick being you became under the notebook's influence… he had a name."

I swallowed hard. "A name…"

The boy nodded. "Yes."

"Kira."

"Yes."

A heavy silence fell between us. The boy's words just confirmed what I'd already suspected, but I still felt a terrible jolt of fear.

The boy swung his arm out, gesturing to the distance, towards the red hue. "All of that red… all of that nothingness… is Kira. You know what that means, don't you?"

I had a suspicion. But I didn't dare speak it aloud. "No, I don't."

The boy shot me a chastising look. "You're lying to me, Light. But if you are so far in denial, then I will gladly explain it to you." He pointed out towards the horizon, towards the barest hint of red. "That right there? It's Kira. It's the product of shoving your memories back into your skull without warning. Now, in theory, when someone regains their memories after relinquishing possession of the Death Note the first time, that's all that happens—they regain their memories, and that's that. No complications, no difficulties of any kind."

"Why only in theory?" I demanded. My voice was shaking.

The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, and his next words were decidedly sheepish. "Because it's never happened before."

"What? You mean someone has _never_ gained their memories back after giving up possession of their Death Note?"

"No. It's unheard of. Which is why the shinigami have limited knowledge on the matter. For example, _this…"_ he gestured once more to the sea of red. "…Is completely unknown to even the oldest of the shinigami. I can't say for sure since I've never encountered anything like this, but… I'd say that when Beyond crammed your memories back into your skull, something went wrong. _Really_ wrong."

This was fitting perfectly into my theory. Which was exactly what I wanted to avoid

"The shinigami have a theory involving memory." The boy looked back to me, his yellowish orange eyes piercing. "Tell me, Light, when you were Kira, did you ever experience anything akin to a split personality?"

"S-split personality?" I stuttered indignantly. "No, no way! I… I was Kira. That was all there was too it. I wanted to kill those people, those criminals, and so I did."

"I see. Then let me explain to you the theory the shinigami have developed." The boy turned his back on me completely, taking a few steps further into the glen. "Let's say that an ordinary human being gains possession of the Death Note. He decides, as you did, to rid the world of evil, and so he begins killing criminals. And then, suddenly, he has to give it up. Now let's say that while the human does not have possession of the notebook, their ideals do not change in the slightest. They still believe that the world is rotten, that they should kill all criminals. They remain static. And then, when they regain their memories, nothing changes. They simply accept the fact that they murdered people because they still believe it was for the greater good. End of story. No difficulties, no complications of any kind. Easy. Now, let's look at a different person. He, like the first owner of the Death Note, uses his powers to kill criminals. But when he loses his memories, something happens. He is not static like the first owner of the notebook. He is fluid, constantly changing—and while he is without his memories, he realizes that killing criminals is wrong, and that _he_ is wrong. He changes, becomes someone entirely different than who he was when he owned the notebook. But then, something happens. He regains his memories. Perhaps—and this is just an example, I remind you—he falls in love with the main investigator in charge of capturing him. And when he gets the notebook back, those memories push, and push, and try to become one with him once again, but he refuses to accept who he once was. He completely rejects those memories, rejects who he was with every fiber of his being. And since neither side will give in to the other, his mind just… breaks. In a twisted coping mechanism, his mind splits into two—one part contains the original person, and the other part contains who the person became when in possession of the notebook. Do you understand?"

"Yes…" I whispered. "It happened to me, didn't it? I changed too much to accept who I was before. To accept Kira. And in retaliation… he tore my mind in half and did _this._ "

The boy nodded. "Yes, Light. You changed drastically after you lost possession of the notebook. You decided that killing criminals was wrong, you fell in love with L… and all of those changes would have been reversed if you'd just allowed the memories to take hold. If you'd accepted who you were, if you'd regained your former mindset, all of that would have been meaningless. You would have been Kira once again, and Light Yagami would be forever lost. But you didn't accept it, Light. You didn't accept your memories like you were supposed to. You kept pushing, and pushing, and struggling to deny their very existence—and so in retaliation, those memories— _Kira_ —tore your mind in two. One half clamors for peace, the other for the death of criminals."

"That's what the red is," I reiterated. "The red is my memories. The red is Kira."

"And the red is spreading," the boy went on. "It's spreading quickly. Do you know why that is?"

I took a guess. "My mind wasn't the only thing that tore in half when I got my memories back. Something else gave too."

The boy nodded grimly. "Yes, Light. When those memories split your mind, they tore something vital. Something crucial."

I fought back the panic building within me. "He… he tore my personality, didn't he." It wasn't a question.

The boy nodded once.

"He's split away from me. He's become his own person. And that's why the red is spreading… " I went on. "Kira is attempting a takeover. He's attempting to push me out of the way and gain control once again. He's going to keep going, that red water is going to keep rising, and he's not going to stop until he's consumed everything. Even me."

" _Especially_ you," the boy corrected gently. "If Kira can get to you, overthrow you, then it will all be over."

Oh god… this couldn't be real! There was no way, no way that this was happening to me—I was supposed to be a college student! Why the hell had I thought getting involved with the Kira case was a good idea in the first place? Why had I picked up that notebook? Why couldn't I leave it alone? I looked back to the boy, whose gaze was still upon me. "How do I stop him?" I asked shakily. "How do you fight a battle inside your own head, a battle against someone you can't really see? How do you fight an entirely different _personality?"_

"I do not know how you can fight it," the boy admitted.

"But you have an idea, yes?"

"I do."

"Then tell me."

The boy's expression twisted into one of conflicted reluctance. "You won't like it, Light."

I knew that. I knew it just from the look on his face. "Tell me. I deserve to know."

He bowed his head. "Very well, then. There is only one sure way to stop Kira in his tracks. And I think you already know what it is."

I shook my head violently. "No. No, I don't know."

"You do."

"I can't! You can't mean—!"

"Light." The boy's expression turned horribly gentle, pitying.

A choked sob was attempting to rise in my throat. I caught it at the last minute, forcing it down. I would not cry; I would not allow myself to feel those terrible emotions welling within me. "I… I have to die, don't I? Once I do that… Kira can't hurt anyone else."

The boy dipped his head in affirmation. "If you want to be sure, then yes. But there may be another way, if you are willing to suffer through it."

"Anything." _Yes, anything, so long as I don't have to put L through the pain of thinking he caused my death by not finding me in time._

The boy murmured, "What is about to commence between Kira and yourself is a battle of wills. And you, Light, are very strong willed. If you utilize that will, I believe that there may be a way to indefinitely restrain Kira, so long as you can last long enough to find it."

"But what about that red water?" I demanded harshly. "If I'm so strong willed, then why is it rising so fast? Why is he gaining so much ground?"

"Light…" the boy sighed. "Your mind is larger than you know. You think the water is rising swiftly only because you cannot see the big picture, because you are incapable of understanding just how far that water has to rise before it consumes you. Or more accurately, how far _Kira_ has to go before he can consume you. And believe me, he has quite a ways to go before he'll be able to take control once again." He moved to my side and stretched up to place a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "If you really want to survive this, then you will have to find a way to resist Kira's influence, no matter how strong it gets. You'll want to give in, you'll want to make it stop—but you _cannot_ let Kira win. Not if you want to live. You are going to have the desire to pick up your pen and kill criminals, but you _must_ find a way to shield yourself from Kira, from that sea of red."

"What can I do? How can I combat something that has no boundaries, no rules? How do I fight, and how will _Kira_ fight?"

"I do not know. That is up to you to find out. I told you, Light, you are the first person to ever go through something like this. I have no idea what is going to happen to you as Kira wages his war."

I stared down at the boy, disbelief bubbling in the pit of my stomach as I heard that he couldn't help me. There was no way… no way I could fight something like this. It was impossible! _But… the alternative is death. I can't die, not without at least seeing L again._

The boy went on, "Be warned, Light. If you choose to fight, then Kira won't be the only thing you'll be up against. You know, don't you? That Beyond has done near irreparable damage to your mind?"

"I suspected something like that," I admitted. "It seemed too good to be true that I'd wake up and be perfectly fine after all he's done to me."

"It is far too good to be true. For now, while you are in the deepest recesses of your mind, the damage cannot affect you. But I fear that your waking mind may be in shambles. It's more than likely that this is the last coherent moment you'll have for quite some time."

"Yes… I know. But I'll just have to find a way to fight through this."

The boy offered me a small smile. "This is because of L, isn't it?"

I responded, "Partly, yes. I admit, I would rather not leave him alone."

Another smile. "You love him."

"Ah, well I w-wouldn't say—" I stuttered, cutting myself off sharply. "I d-don't think that—"

"Do yourself a favor," the boy smirked. "If you get another coherent moment after this, tell him."

"W-well…" A sudden noise boomed through the world around us, shaking the entire world. Leaves rattled on trees, grass swayed, the sky trembled. The noise sounded again just a few seconds later. Then again. My eyes darted to the boy, and I yelled above the noise, "What is that? What's happening?"

The boy's eyes were locked on the sky. "They're here for you."

"Who? Who's here?"

"Well, you'll just have to find that out for yourself, won't you?"

I stared at him, disbelieving, as he began to disappear. His whole form was becoming translucent, fading into nothing. "Wait!" I yelled. "At least tell me what to call you! Don't just leave like this!"

He paused, still half phased out of existence. His eyes were narrowed irritably, head cocked to one side. "It is not the time for you to know who I am."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped. "Get back here, shinigami!"

He smirked. "So, you've figured out what I am?"

"You've made it painfully obvious," I spat in response, furious that he was attempting to leave without telling me everything. "Now get back here and do some more explaining!"

"Sorry," he laughed. "Now isn't the time."

And with that, he completely vanished, leaving me alone in a landscape made of silver. That terrible noise sounded again, shaking my entire being. I whirled around, and in the distance, I saw the red sea growing closer. Already, it was dangerously near, staining the earth red as it expanded.

 _Aw, what's wrong, Light?_ A voice whispered. _Are you already feeling discouraged? Have you figured out that you won't win? You could make this easier, you know… all you'd have to do is accept me. Walk into the scarlet waves, Light… come to me._

"Shut up!" I snapped aloud. My hands darted up to twist in my hair, tugging in an attempt to expel the voice, the voice that I now identified as Kira. "Get out of my head!"

 _Sorry, but I'm here to stay. And the sooner you give up, the sooner this all ends._

"I won't give up, damn you!" I forced my numb legs to move away from the red sea, which was already within sight. "No matter what happens," I growled, "I am going to end you. That, at least, I can promise."

 **That was without a doubt one of the most difficult chapters to write in this entire story. I'm not too happy with that last scene (I rewrote it several times in an attempt to make it better) but I hope it does a well enough job of outlining the path this story's going to be taking over the next few parts. And if it doesn't, I'm always open to questions.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, which was actually the end of part two (the shortest part in the whole story), and be sure to drop me a review if you did!**


	11. Sign of the Moon

**Welcome to chapter eleven! Thanks for all the awesome reviews I got on that last chapter; it was really sweet to see that the whole multiple personality thing went over well. I was a little concerned it would be a little stilted, but I'm glad that it was so well received. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much, because I'm in love with it!**

 **And to Fluffy237: don't worry, the reason Light can't just give up the notebook is dealt with in this chapter. Thanks for the question!**

 **Chapter 11: Sign of the Moon**

L stood outside the door the warehouse with his successors by his side. Their plan had been devised hastily during the car ride over. L, Near, Mello, and Matt would enter through the main door, guns drawn, and search the place for Light. If they saw Beyond, they were to restrain him if at all possible—but shooting to kill should be a last resort. The task force would spread out over the various escape routs just in case Beyond attempted to flee. However, there weren't near enough people to cover every exit—if Beyond was set on running, the chances of stopping him were astronomically low. But still, they had to try.

L was distracted from his thoughts when he heard the warehouse door suddenly fly open. A glance up told him that Mello had used the hilt of his weapon to bash the padlock off the door.

"Well?" Mello snapped. "Lead the way, L. We're wasting time."

L nodded shortly, struggling to fight down the nervousness bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to consider it, but if Light wasn't here, then they had no other leads. They would be back in that investigation room, back in that same perpetual loop of _not knowing._ L didn't think he could handle that. So he hoped, hoped with his entire being, that Light was in this warehouse, and still alive.

They searched for what felt like hours, but was more like thirty minutes. The team of detectives began with a sweep of the lower floors. The first two were free of any suspicious items or other such clues, though the entire place seemed to be surprisingly dirty after being shut down for only a week. Broken windows were boarded up, floor tiles were chipped, and empty crates and dingy labels littered the floor. But despite all that, there was still no sigh of Light or Beyond. However, when the got to the third floor, things began to show up that were far from normal. They exited the stairwell to see a long, stainless steel hallway. There were many doors lining both sides of the hallway, but nothing else. L approached the nearest door and yanked it open. Empty. The door across from that one was also empty, as were the next two sets of rooms after that. But the third door down to the right wielded interesting results.

"What the hell is this?" Mello demanded, walking up to the huge, empty tank and examining it. It took up much of the back wall, and a set of handcuffs hung from the ceiling, dropping directly down into the tank. There was a control panel on the wall to the right. L approached it and pressed one of the buttons experimentally. Immediately water began to pour in from two valves on the sides of the tank.

"This must have why those teenagers heard rushing water," L murmured.

Matt gasped, pressing his fingers against the smooth glass. "This is a torture device!" The water was slowly climbing up the tank. Another press of a button and the handcuffs lowered slightly.

"I see," Near muttered thoughtfully. "Once the subject breaks, you can use the cuffs to pull them out of the water. Or you can hold them down and prevent them from swimming up to breathe."

L's eyes slipped closed as he imagined Light gasping for breath in the tank, his head barely above the water as it prepared to swallow him entirely. The image sent a spasm of pain through his chest.

"Let's look at the next room," Near suggested softly.

The next room held electric chair spattered with blood. The one after that was pitch black with a set of scarlet-encrusted shackles hanging from one wall. The next room had a wall adorned with knives, scalpels, whips, and other devices of torture—though there was a distinct lack of blood. It must have been Beyond's store room.

The next room they came across was the worst.

When they opened the door, they were met with a steel table. This room had blood _everywhere._ It was smeared across the table and walls, splattered across the floor. There were bloody handprints at the door. L remained silent as he leaned down, examining the floor. Small white grains adorned the blood spatters. "Salt," he whispered. "If this truly is where Beyond has been hiding, this must be the room where he's been holding Light."

"But he's not here," Matt pointed out in a low tone. "Do you think that Beyond took him away from this place?"

L shook his head immediately, insisting, "No, he has to be here. Let's keep looking."

There was only one door left. One, last door where Light could possibly be. L placed his hand on the handle and paused, hardly daring to breathe. The tension was impossibly thick as L compressed the handle, opened the door, and—

There was a voice coming from behind the door. A dark, familiar voice, lowered in a vicious snarl.

"…don't worry," that voice snarled. "I'll tell L that you love him."

L's eyes widened. That was Beyond! He immediately grabbed the door handle, not thinking about the possible dangers or repercussions just walking in on a murderer, who may or may not be armed. He wrenched at the door, but it was firmly locked.

"What the—?" Beyond hissed in surprise, no doubt hearing the noise.

L yanked on the handle furiously, mindlessly hoping that the lock would break, the door would open, and he would be able to stop Beyond from doing whatever it was he was about to do.

"Stand back!" Mello ordered, pushing L out of the way. He raised his leg, and in one, powerful kick, the door flung open.

L immediately burst into the room, leaving Mello in the dust. His eyes raked the open space, fighting the dim light in an attempt to locate Beyond, and hopefully, Light. His hand flew to the holster at his belt, and the next moment his handgun was clenched in his hand, safety off, aimed point blank into the room. He heard his successors burst in behind him, heard the clicks as they released the safety on their guns.

For a long, terrible moment, there was silence. Then L's eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and he saw him—Beyond Birthday, standing in the dead center of the room with a surprised look on his face. L's eyes raked down the murderer's form, and a heartbeat later he located a bloodied knife gripped in his hand. And beneath that knife—

"Oh my god—!" Matt gasped.

"Light!" The teen didn't move. He was clearly lost to unconsciousness—at least, L _hoped_ it was unconsciousness. L couldn't quite make out Light's injuries at this distance and in this light, but he had no doubt that they were severe. He stepped forwards threateningly, tightening his grip on his gun. He couldn't shoot—if he did, he had no doubt that Beyond would bring that knife down and slit Light's throat. "Beyond, you monster! Let go of the knife and step away from Light!"

The murderer cocked his head to one side, the surprise in his eyes slowly giving way to cold calculation. He was no doubt searching for a way out of the situation. "And if I don't?" he snarled. "Are you going to kill me, L? Will you take my life?" He pressed his knife harder against Light's throat, and a line of red appeared.

"If you don't step away, I _will_ shoot you," L warned.

"And if _you_ don't lower your guns and let me go, I will kill Light," Beyond countered.

There was a long moment of silence in which the two parties stared each other down. They were at a stalemate, with no easy way out. L found himself eyeing Beyond's hand, the one gripping the knife over Light's throat. If he could manage to shoot that hand, then Light's life would be saved—at least, for the moment. He trusted his accuracy with a gun, but in this light, and with such a small target… he wasn't sure. And if he was going to attempt this, he had to be _completely_ sure that he wouldn't miss. Because if he missed… Light would end up with a bullet in his neck. L's finger tightened slightly on the trigger. He sensed his successors tense beside him; they were no doubt eager to act, to do _something_ —but they wouldn't make a move without his command.

Beyond seemed to follow his train of thought. "Try it," he snarled. "I dare you! One slip up, and Light _dies._ Can you handle those odds, L? If you miss, would you be able to handle knowing that you were the one that killed him?"

L clenched his teeth. Beyond wasn't leaving him with much of a choice. If he didn't shoot, and allowed Beyond to get away, Light would die. If he shot and hit Light, he would die. But if he shot and didn't hit him… Light would be saved. _Maybe not,_ L reminded himself. _You have no idea how badly he's hurt—the damage could be irreparable._ Still, those were odds that l would have to take. He raised the gun to eye level, staring down the barrel. "Back away," he warned one last time.

"Shoot, L! Take a chance!"

L narrowed his eyes. _I will not miss,_ he promised Light. _I swear to you, I will not miss. I will save you, and I will be the one to piece you back together._ He inhaled deeply, steadying his shaking hand. And then, in one swift, decisive movement, his finger compressed the trigger, and a hollow crack filled the room.

A horrible, ear-splitting shriek filled the air. A heartbeat later, Beyond's knife clattered to the ground, the hilt soaked in blood. The murderer staggered away from Light with a low cry, one hand shooting to cover the other. Blood poured from his injured appendage in fountains, spattering the floor with violent shades of crimson. The murderer's back hit the wall, and he slid down just a few inches as his legs began to shake slightly. But despite that, despite the unbearable pain he was no doubt experiencing, the savage smile remained on his face.

"Why are you smiling?" L demanded furiously, raising his gun and pointing it directly between the murderer's eyes.

"Why?" Beyond echoed, his voice shaking. "Because you're too _late,_ L, just like you were too late for A!"

Immediately L's eyes flickered to Light.

 _No!_

L's gun clattered to the floor noisily as he darted forward into the dim room, throwing caution to the wind as he reached the teen sprawled out over the dentist's chair. He was in such a hurry to reach Light that he barely noticed when his foot struck his gun on the way past, sending it skittering in Beyond's direction. L's hands closed over Light's throat desperately, attempting to stem the flow of blood that was slowly beginning to run, faster and faster, from the clean slit Beyond had managed to carve out just before the bullet rendered his right hand useless.

"Light!" L called out, pressing harder against the cut. "Light, please!" He wasn't sure what he was asking from the teen—was he asking him to wake up? To stay alive? Spotting a towel on the nearby table, L seized it and pressed it over the wound. As he did, his eyes raked down the rest of the teen's body. L felt bile rising in his throat as he laid eyes on Beyond's handiwork—countless lacerations, horrendous burns, severe bruising—and the assortment of bite marks sprawled across the teen's neck and shoulders. Blood was running down the back of the chair to pool on the ground at his feet, and L realized suddenly that there must be a wound on Light's back—a severe one by the looks of it. "Matt!" he ordered, "Get over here and help me with this!"

The youngest successor immediately tucked away his gun and hurried to L's side, leaving Near and Mello to point their weapons threateningly in Beyond's direction.

"L," Mello snarled, "give the word, and he dies."

L didn't register the words. He was too busy wrapping the towel tighter around Light's neck in preparation to turn him onto his front. Matt worked at the straps holding the teen down, and in just a few moments L was able to turn Light over, keeping steady pressure on the slit across his throat. It wasn't deep, he was relieved to discover—Beyond hadn't had the time or strength to make more than a shallow slice before he'd been shot. Another second, and it might have been quite a different story.

His attention was drawn to Light's back when Matt suddenly gagged, turning his head away. "Oh god, L…"

L stared unseeingly at the wound stretched across his lover's back. Blood covered Light's skin in sheets, dripping in dangerous amounts from horrendously deep lines covering his entire left side, from shoulder to mi-back. Snatching another town from the table, L immediately mopped up the worst of the blood, and his worst fears were confirmed.

"Beyond!" L roared, his control breaking like a sapling in the middle of a hurricane. "You monster! You bastard!"

"Do you like it, Lawli?" the murderer crowed, teeth bared. "I did it just for you!"

Blood was already running in rivers, covering the lines back up in fountains of scarlet—the lines that displayed a horrifically intricate sketch of two letters.

 _B.B._

L was swift to press the towel back against Light's flesh, desperate to both control the blood loss and hide the vile marks from his view. Beyond… he'd done the same thing to Light that he'd done to _him_ all that time ago. The thought made L see red—and not just from the blood. He looked up at Mello, commanding, "Call the task force and tell them that we have Light, and tell them to send in help!"

Mello narrowed his eyes, the grip on his gun tightening. "L, I don't think it's a good idea to have just one gun pointed on this guy."

" _Do it!"_ L snarled.

Mello jumped, clearly surprised. A second later, his gun was sheathed and there was a cell phone in his hand. He was in the process of dialing when Beyond suddenly cackled.

"You're all fools," the murderer snarled. "Every single one of you! Work as hard as you can to save him, little fools, because it's not going to do anything!"

"Shut up!" Matt snapped, speaking before L had a chance to do so much as open his mouth in response. "You've lost, Beyond!"

"Have I?" he purred. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Mattie."

A visible shiver passed up Matt's form at the use of the nickname.

"Now…" Beyond continued, eyeing Near viciously. "Tell me, Near, how sure of yourself are you with that gun?"

Near blinked, clearly confused. "I am sure that I can kill you if you attempt anything."

"Are you? Really?" The murderer's lips were pulled back in a sneer. "Let's test that, then."

L's eyes flickered back to Beyond, and he understood in a heartbeat what was about to happen. "Near!" he ordered in a cry. "Shoot! Shoot him now!"

Unfortunately, the white-haired detective was slow to understand. In a single heartbeat, Beyond moved forward at near-inhuman speeds and snatched up L's fallen gun and turning it on the successor. "Move!" the dark-haired murderer snarled.

"No," Near responded evenly, despite the fact that Beyond's gun was trained on his head. "If you attempt to pass, I will shoot you."

"You already had your chance," Beyond spat back. "You missed it. Now, move or I'll shoot."

Near's eyes narrowed as he tightened his finger on the trigger slightly. "No."

Snarling, Beyond turned his gaze on L, who was still pressing a towel to Light's back. Matt's hands were full with keeping pressure on the slit across Light's neck, and Mello was still standing frozen with his cell phone in one hand. "L," Beyond hissed. "I'm sure you know how this goes. Either you let me go free, or you stay here in a stalemate, and Light bleeds out. He's been bleeding for so long now, I wouldn't be surprised if he dies within the next few minutes." He inched towards the door subtly. "So, what's it going to be, L? Stopping me, or saving your lover?"

L looked back down at Light. The teen was terribly still, barely shifting as he lay face-first on the chair. His back was badly damaged, and the rest of him wasn't exactly in stellar condition. There was no telling if he'd been given food or water, and after being kept in such dangerous conditions, losing this much blood was no doubt life threatening. He didn't have long. _There's no choice,_ L thought bitterly. _If I want to save Light… then I have to let him go._ L turned his gaze on the first ranked successor. "Near," he said softly. The teen looked up at him, and the complete trust in his eyes almost made L falter in what he said next. "Step aside. Let him go."

"What?" Near gasped. A heartbeat later, Mello echoed his exclamation in a slightly more profane way. "You can't expect me to let him go!"

" _Near,_ " L responded, barely controlling the tremor in his voice. "Light is losing a lot of blood. If we don't end this _now,_ then we won't be able to save him. Now please, step aside and let Beyond pass! We'll catch him after Light is healed!"

There was a long, agonizing moment of silence, in which Near gazed evenly at L, clearly calculating his next move. Then, very, very slowly, Near lowered his gun and stepped out of the doorway. "Very well, L," he consented.

Beyond grinned toothily, keeping his gun trained on Near as he moved, not for the door, but for the table. He snatched one of the black notebooks off the table, leaving the other one untouched. Satisfied, he prowled towards the door. "Good choice," he purred. "I wanted to kill him myself, but it seems that that'll have to wait for another day." He'd reached the doorway. "Oh…" he went on. "And you can keep that notebook. Light's going to need it _when_ he comes to his senses and joins me!" Swiftly, deliberately, he exited the room and stood with his hand on the door handle. "It's been fun," he called back into the room. "I'll be back for you later, Lawli! And your beautiful little boyfriend too!"

The door slammed shut.

L's attention immediately returned to Light. He shook him lightly with one hand in hopes of waking him up, while the other remained firmly pressed to the towel covering his wounds. There was no response.

Near gently pulled L from Light's body, taking his place at the teen's back. "L, you shouldn't touch him," Near warned sharply. "We have no idea what state of mind he's in right now—if he wakes up, he could lash out at you thinking you're Beyond. You must remember how similar you look." The first ranked successor looked back to Mello, ordering, "Mello, go through with calling Soichiro. Tell him we have Light, and that Beyond is attempting to flee the building. Maybe we'll be able to catch him before he escapes." The words were hollow. Everyone present knew that Beyond was already gone.

L stared nervously at Light, barely managing to keep himself from returning to his lover's body. He instead watched as Matt turned Light's head to one side gently, removing the towel and examining the slit across the teen's throat.

"It isn't deep," he announced. "L, you shot Beyond just in time. Another second, and this might not have been salvageable." He pressed the towel back against Light's neck firmly. "It might not require stitching." He looked up at Mello, who was shoving his phone back in his pocket after his call to Soichiro. "Mells, are you done with that call?"

"Yeah, the members of the task force are watching as many exit points as they can."

"Then get over here and apply pressure on this wound—I'm going to check the rest of his body for any severe injuries."

Mello nodded, approaching and pressing down hard on the towel. Matt moved to examine the rest of Light's body. L watched as Matt checked over Light's form, checking for any other source of extreme blood loss. Much to L's relief, it appeared that there were no other life-threatening wounds—though the number of lacerations, bruises, and cuts was astounding. He was surprised that the Light was still _alive_ after the torture he had no doubt endured.

"Hey…" L said suddenly, noticing the black notebook and pen Beyond had left behind. He'd said that Light would need it when he decided to join him… what had he meant? "What is this thing?" He walked up to the notebook and picked it up, opening it and riffling through it. "I've seen all these names before," he murmured. "These are the names of murdered criminals. Is he keeping a record?"

"Deal with the notebook later!" Mello snapped. "Light needs you!"

That seemed to snap L out of it. He swiftly returned to Light's side, being careful not to get too close just in case he awoke and attempted to attack him.

"I think it's safe for you to get close, if you want," Near said softly. "He shows no signs of awakening, and I don't think he'd be able to move even if he _did_ happen to wake up."

L was immediately at Light's side, threading his hands through his blood-crusted hair, gently untangling it. His fingers traced a dark bruise painted cruelly over the juncture between shoulder and neck. _Beyond_ … L cursed his name. He would be brought to justice for this.

"We need to get him out of here," Matt said, his inspection of Light's injuries complete. "I don't know how severe his condition is—he looks like he hasn't eaten in days, he's dehydrated, there are several wounds that are looking infected—and his back is severely damaged. And his ribs… I can't say for sure because of all the cuts, but I believe that some of them are cracked."

Nodding, L said, "I'll carry him. You three keep your guns ready." He looped his arms beneath Light and lifted him, cradling the injured boy to his chest. He carefully used one hand to keep the towel against Light's back in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. The fact that he could feel Light's chest rising and falling against his own was enough to comfort the shaken detective, even through the knowledge that all was not well. Light… was alive! The thought was still sinking in. He'd been expecting to walk into the warehouse and find Light's cooling body. He'd expected to bring back a corpse, not a living, breathing boy. He could barely believe that he had his lover back. But then again…

Light had yet to awaken, and he was badly injured. What if he was unable to recover physically? What if Beyond's torturing had forced him into a _coma_? And even if he wasn't in a perpetual state of unconsciousness, L feared greatly for Light's mental state. Beyond had made it perfectly clear that he intended to break Light in every way. And he'd had more than enough time to wear away at the teen's mind. It was highly likely Light had sustained serious damage to his psyche. But L wouldn't know how had it was until he awoke.

They took the stairwell back to the ground floor and exited the building, where they were swiftly met by the rest of the task force, all of whom had apparently abandoned their post after hearing the front door open. As expected, Beyond was nowhere to be found. Soichiro was the first to greet his battered son, not even attempting to hide the tears that spilled down his cheeks as L lay the teen down across the back seat of his car—face-first, so it was still possible to apply pressure to the grievous wounds splayed across his back.

"Chief Yagami, please hold yourself back until we have situated Light back in the infirmary at HQ." L requested shakily.

"What? No! He needs to go to a hospital!"

L shook his head. "I took Light to the hospital when he was ill because I had no means of treating a fever as severe as his without professional help. However, Watari is more than capable of handling physical wounds such as these. Now please, Chief Yagami, we must go. Every second we wait is another moment Light weakens due to blood loss." He hoped that no one would detect the slight tremor in his hands, nor in his voice.

Soichiro seemed to come to his senses upon hearing those words, backing away and allowing L to enter the car, followed by his successors. The task force piled into the van being driven by Mogi and followed the limo out of the parking lot.

 _Hang on,_ L begged silently, pressing hard against the blood-soaked towel. _Please, Light, just… hang on._

†††

Light's condition was just a few threads away from being classified as critical. He'd been rushed back to HQ and immediately locked away in the infirmary by Watari, who refused to allow L or the successors in until his work was done. A few gut-wrenching hours later, the inventor had emerged from the infirmary with a grim expression on his face, and for just a moment L feared the worst—that is, until Watari offered them a small, tense smile, and L's heart nearly melted under the heat of his violent wave of relief.

As Watari explained, Light's condition was far from ideal. He was covered in minor lacerations that would no doubt leave faint scars crisscrossing over his skin. Some of said lacerations had grown infected, and it had taken quite a while to clean and bind each one so they wouldn't pose a problem. Already, the light infections were causing a low fever to surface—but it was nothing compared to the illness that had ravaged Light's system prior to bring kidnapped. As long as it didn't rise too high, and the wounds were treated properly, Watari believed it would be okay to keep him in HQ. In addition, the long slit across the teen's neck, while not nearly as severe as it could have been, was concerning Watari greatly. He'd attempted to repair the damage to the best of his abilities, but it was still entirely possible that it would leave a distinct scar. And then there were the severe burns across Light's chest and stomach. As Watari gently informed L, those burns would _really_ scar, leaving behind large blotches that would never fade. Light would have the marks from his encounter with Beyond for the rest of his life.

But even that wasn't the worst of it. Light's ribs had been severely damaged, and had already begun to heal improperly. Watari had been forced to re-break some of them and set them in place, as well as setting two broken fingers and a fractured left ulna. And then there were those terribly deep marks across Light's back. The marks that so perfectly matched L's. Those too would leave deep, ragged scars, despite Watari's best efforts to repair the damage. Beyond had sliced clean through muscle, the inventor explained, and so it had been especially difficult to piece the tatters back together—but he'd done it, and though it wasn't perfect (Light would be in pain for quite some time, and he'd probably never have quite the same range of motion in his left shoulder), it was the best he could do considering the circumstances. Light was lucky to be _alive_ after losing so much blood and being tortured for so long. He'd nearly died. If Watari hadn't had the necessary supplies to perform a blood transfusion on hand, Light really _would_ have died.

After Watari emerged with news of Light's survival, L had hoped to be able to speak to the teen immediately. But due to Light's severe injuries, Watari had put him on a high dose of pain medication—and that combined with Light's natural exhaustion after so many days of torture meant that it would be a while before he was ready to awaken.

So it was back to waiting beside Light's bed for him to awaken. Back to endless tension as he waited to see what damage Beyond had inflicted.

It was maddening, just waiting. But he supposed there was nothing else to do but wait, especially seeing as Beyond hadn't left any new clues as to his whereabouts or intentions. Well, actually, he did have one thing he could do—go through the strange notebook, labeled _Death Note_. Criminals' names were written on every page he turned until about the halfway point, when it reverted to blank pages. But that wasn't all. One some of the pages there were descriptions written as to the deaths of the criminals. And after a short check through his laptop, it was confirmed—the deaths described were exactly the same as what was written. But could this really mean that this notebook had the power to kill…?

He doubted it. His rational mind rejected the idea with every fiber of its being, but he knew that after all the things he'd seen, it was entirely possible. But he would only be able to test it by writing a name in it, and he would rather not kill someone. But then again, if he tried the notebook and it worked…he could kill _anyone._ He could kill _Beyond._

This train of thought led him to crouch in a chair at his desk, the TV clicked on, pen hovering over the notebook, for several nights in a row. He wanted to kill to test the notebook. He wanted to know if it was real. His eyes flickered over every face and name of every criminal as they scrolled by. _Is it you?_ He would ask himself. _Are you the one I'll kill?_ He had even gone as far as to press the pen to the paper and begin writing the first letter—only to stop halfway through, remembering that if this was actually the real deal, it was likely that this was the object that had controlled Light's actions for so long. He didn't want to _touch_ the thing. But his curiosity… it burned.

And he didn't know if he could resist it for long.

†††

"Light!" a voice called in a singsong tone. "Oh, Light, where are you? Don't you want to play with me?"

I pressed my back against one of the great oak trees surrounding me, chest heaving as I fought for breath. The water was still a safe distance away, and Kira was nowhere in sight—but that voice seemed to follow me, seeking me out no matter how hard I tried to get away. I had no way to track the time that had passed since the child shinigami had disappeared, but it felt like forever. All I'd done since the shinigami left was run, and run, and run. The red sea was still at my back, flowing steadily over grass, overtaking rocks, staining the landscape a bright, fiery red—but it had yet to catch me. I seemed to be much faster than the water—though I knew that my mind was only so large, and it would only be a matter of time before I had nowhere else to run. I had to find a way to win against Kira, but I had no idea how to fight. All I could do was run. And with every step I took, every ragged breath I drew, Kira's voice echoed in my ears. I could never see him; he was always completely out of sight. And I knew, logically, that he couldn't be near me—from what I'd gathered, he was unable to step outside the red sea. But even though he wasn't visible, his voice was more than enough to drive me to the brink of insanity.

"Stop running, Light…" that voice whispered. "Let me in… let me _heal_ you… let me make you complete…"

"Stop!" I hissed, raising my hands to my hair and tugging in a useless attempt to rid myself of Kira's voice. "Stop doing this!"

A low snarl echoed around the inside of my skull. "You disappoint me, Light. We were so close before… we were calculating, functional, effective… why won't you let us be that way again? When you relinquished possession of the notebook and banished me you had great ideas and beliefs. But now that we are finally reunited, I see that you are… _tainted._ I can taste it in your blood, _see_ it in every move you make." He let out a dark laugh. "You fell in love with the enemy and betrayed me, and now you're going to pay the price. You're going to be _punished._ "

"L is not the enemy!" I snarled. "He wants nothing more than to put an end to your reckless actions, and I intend to do anything I can to help him—even if it results in my death! I will not betray him for the likes of _you._ "

He purred, "It's not up to you anymore. You will betray L because you have no other choice. I _know_ you, Light. I know that you will not simply lay here and accept my control. You will fight until you have no strength left, you will run until the only patch of your mind not bathed in red lies beneath your feet. And when that happens, I will consume you, and we will be one once again."

"You'll kill me!" I responded viciously. "You don't intend to become one, you intend to extinguish all the good left in you. Don't forget Kira, just as you know me, I know _you._ "

There was a low, dangerous sounding snarl. "Dying a hero is better than living as the cowardly villain you would be with L as your master. When I gain control, I will become a _god._ "

"You will be a monster," I retorted. "You think that killing criminals is taking the path of justice, but you're wrong. All you're doing is fueling your god complex!"

For a long moment there was silence, and I almost hoped to believe that Kira had backed off. But then he spoke once more, and though his tone was soft, his words venomous. "And what would you do if you retained control? Please, enlighten me as to how _you_ would go about things."

I was beginning to get my breath back, mercifully. The ache in my side was fading, and though my head hurt terribly, it wasn't incapacitating. "That's easy. I'd work with L and catch criminals the right way."

"The _right_ way…" Kira scoffed. "You've become so boring, so unimaginative. Where's the fun in doing things the right way? Sometimes to do the world good, youhave to become the bad guy. We accepted that when we took on the responsibility of killing criminals, did we not? We sacrificed our _soul_ for that responsibility."

" _You_ sacrificed our soul," I corrected harshly. "I had no part in it."

"No, no. That's not right. I think you're forgetting, dear Light, that we _were_ one and the same before we gave up the notebook. You had just as much a hand in what happened as I."

It was true, I knew. The thought made my stomach churn—the thought that no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I _had_ wanted to kill those criminals, I _had_ wanted to kill L.

"Oh, how it hurts me to see your anguish…" Kira sighed. "I could make it all better if you'd join me again. It would be easy… all you'd have to do is walk towards the water."

"Never," I spat. "I'll keep running as long as it takes—I'm going to find a way to beat you, I swear it!"

"And how do you think you're going to accomplish that?" Kira asked, his tone chastising. "What can you possibly do to stop me?"

I gritted my teeth. "I…" I trailed off, struggling to think of a way out. How did one go about fighting a part of one's own memories? _That's easy,_ I realized. I'd been so shaken by discovering this other side to my personality—or more accurately, an entirely _different_ personality—that I hadn't been able to calm down and think logically about the problem. But now, leaning back against the silvery tree trunk of a great oak, the answer blared out at me like a neon sign. _I have to forget. And if I want to forget, then there's only one thing that I can do._

"And finally, your feeble mind grasps the simplest of concepts!" Kira gasped, his tone mockingly impressed. "I swear, you're _useless_ without me, Light! Your mind is so fragmented that you couldn't even think of the most obvious solution to your problem! This is why you _need_ me."

I wasn't listening. My mind was too busy figuring out what should have been obvious from the beginning. I had to give it up. I had to give up the notebook. But while I was in here, in this dream, in my _mind,_ I had no way to do such a thing. I had to awaken, and I had to awaken _now!_

"That's right…" Kira purred, and I realized with a jolt that he was responding to thoughts that I hadn't spoken aloud. He could hear me whether I was speaking aloud or not. "If you could just find a way to relinquish control of the notebook, then you would forget me, and the red sea would vanish. It's the ideal solution—simple, straight to the point, bloodless. But something's _wrong,_ you're thinking. If the solution is really as easy as speaking a few words to give it all up, then why didn't that child shinigami tell you? Why did he say the only way was to either die or engage me in a battle of wills?" He cackled. "There must be something more, right? Something that you're not being told?"

My mind whirred at top speed. He was right, of course—if the solution was so easy, the boy would have told me. So what was I missing? What key element dictated that I couldn't just give up the notebook and lose my memories, lose Kira?

"Can't figure it out?" the murderer crowed. "Do you want me to tell you?" He didn't wait for me to respond. "Relinquishing possession of the Death Note isn't going to _work_ anymore, Light! It's too late for that, I'm afraid. It's too late because I've already dug my talons deep, deep into your mind—and I have no intention of letting go anytime soon. Despite all your running, I've already gained just a modicum of control. And do you know how?"

I… I had a suspicion. My eyes flickered down to my silvery form, running over the places where Kira had touched me. The metallic red splotches hadn't faded after he broke contact—they were still there, standing out hideously against the cool, silvery blue of the rest of my body.

"That's right," Kira praised mockingly. "You let me touch you, Light. You shouldn't have done that. That boy should never have taken you to the water's edge. Because now, now that you're stained with red, it's too late to give up possession of the notebook. You've already handed a part of yourself over to me, and I intend to _utilize_ it. You can try, and try, and try to give up the notebook, my Light. But no matter how hard you want to speak, to scream those words up to the sky, they will never pass your lips. For with that control you've given me, I will make it impossible for you to give up the Death Note. _That,_ Light, is why it is too late."

Fear jolted through me. He'd only touched me for a mere moment, and he'd gained that much control? Enough to stop me from speaking the words that would grant me the release of amnesia? I snarled, barely concealing the panic swelling in my chest, "Then I will fight you with my will alone, and I will win."

Kira laughed loudly. "Fight me with your will? That's what the shinigami told you, isn't it? That you could fight me from inside you own head, or something equally ridiculous? Because he's _wrong,_ Light. Oh, sure, you can _try_ to fight me with your will—but it's not going to do you any good. You'll be going up against a bear with a toothpick as your weapon. You might manage to hold me off for a little while that way, but in the end it's going to amount to nothing. All it's going to do is put off the inevitable." I couldn't see him—but I knew that if I could, there would be a savage grin stretched across his face. "That foolish shinigami… for all his power, he has no idea just how formidable I've become. He underestimated me terribly, and you're going to be the one to pay for it."

My stomach lurched. The shinigami… he'd been wrong? Was it really true that fighting Kira was only putting off the inevitable? If that was true… then there was only one way to get rid of him permanently. "Then I will tell L that I am Kira, and he will kill me." _Yes,_ I thought. _If I tell L that I am Kira, it is certain that he will kill me. I do not doubt the affection he feels for me, but if he is faced with something so concrete as a confession, he will have no choice but to have me executed. He… he is the man I love, but he is also the world's greatest detective, and he is bound to his duty to catch and execute Kira._

Kira scoffed, "It's not going to work. You can tell L whatever you want, for it makes no difference in the end. He will do nothing to stop me—and he will not kill you. He couldn't bear to lay a hand on his precious Light, not even if he knows that I'm a part of you. He _loves_ you. And that love, that damned emotion, is going to be his undoing. When I consume you in a torrent of red, I will kill him, and he will be unable to do anything, for he will only be able to see the mask of his perfect boyfriend, not the murderer lurking beneath." He purred, "L won't be able to bring himself to raise a hand to you nor me. So when I gain control—and I _will_ gain control—I will murder him, the successors, and the task force. Then I will find Beyond, and we will work to complete my goal of ridding this world of all its _scum._ "

"Are you insane?" I gasped. "Do you have any idea what that monster _did_ to us?"

"I am more than aware of the tortures he put _you_ through. But that doesn't mean I don't want his help, especially after he so willingly offered it. He acts towards Kira much in the same way that Misa Amane acts towards you. Obsessed to the point of being willingly used just to get closer. He's the perfect tool."

"He'll kill us both," I rasped. "He was inches away from slitting our throat when we passed out."

"He only sought to kill _you_ because he thought that you had denounced _me,_ " Kira said carelessly. "If I go to him as the god he desires, then he will fall into the palm of my hand."

He was right, I knew. If Kira gained control, if he went to Beyond, then it would all be over. There would be no hope for the world, no hope for the task force—no hope for L. "I will never let you take control," I assured Kira, my voice shaking slightly with every word. I will kill _myself_ before I allow you to override my authority over my own body!"

"Its _our_ body," he corrected in a chastising tone. "And you can try, but I'll stop you long before you get within a mile of claiming your own life. I trust I'll have L's help on that front, at least."

 _He already has so much control…_ I thought desperately. _If he touches me again, who knows what else he'll be able to do?"_

"Oh… and let's not kid ourselves," Kira whispered, and his hushed voice increased in volume as if he were leaning towards me. "I _know_ you, Light Yagami. I know how intelligent you are. And so I know that behind those pretty little eyes of yours, you're already coming up with a plan to get rid of me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"And I know what that plan is, Light. I know that L knows nothing about the Death Note other than what's written. And one of the things _not_ written is the fact that if the notebook is burned, ownership is immediately renounced. I know you're going to tell L to burn the Death Note, thus getting rid of me forever." He cackled. "But I won't let you do it. If you so much as _think_ about telling him to burn the notebook, I will _crush_ you. You won't even have the chance to part your lips in the beginnings of a word before I silence you."

"Y-you can't," I choked out.

"I can, and I _will,_ " the murderer snarled. "So behave yourself, Light."

The ground suddenly shook beneath my feet. _An earthquake? In my head?_ I lurched away from the oak tree, watching for falling branches.

"Oh," Kira whispered. "One last thing."

The ground shook more and more violently beneath my feet, throwing me momentarily off balance. "What is it?" I snapped above the rumbling that was suddenly filling the static air.

"Look behind you."

Kira's voice went completely silent, as if someone had turned off a radio. I immediately whirled around in the direction of the sea, and—

 _No… how did it move so swiftly? How?_ The red sea was lapping at the trees mere feet from my position. I could only watch in horror as the red splashed against the silvery bark of the great oaks. Metallic scarlet climbed up the trunks like wildfire, infecting every inch of silver, down to the very last leaf. Despite its high speed, the water seemed to move in slow motion as it consumed each oak, lurching further and further in my direction. The ground shook beneath my feet once again, and this time I realized what was causing it as one of the great oaks' roots were ripped from the ground, splintering the scarlet earth as the tree fell with a mighty thud to the ground, where it was consumed by water. _Run!_ I told myself, but my feet were locked in place. _Run, run now!_

With a shuddering gasp, I obeyed. There was no time to think as I lurched forward into the forest, ducking in and out of trees in an attempt to escape the sea. I crashed through silver undergrowth, trampled silver blades of grass, narrowly avoided being whipped by silver branches. I willed the ground to warp beneath me as it had when I was with the kid shinigami, but it stayed stubbornly in place. I was barely outrunning the scarlet water, and I knew that if I slipped up just once, it would all be over. It felt like ages that I continued running, running, and running even more through the trees. I tore through the forest and emerged on a grassy plain, and that too was left in the dust mere minutes later as I plunged into a mountainous area, splashing through a stream of silvery water. I began to traverse the rocky area, climbing higher and higher as the water rose on my heels. I was thrown into a near-vertical climb, and it took everything I had not to slip back into the water. The closer the stuff got, the more whispers filled my mind—whispers urging me to let go, to leap into Kira's arms, to miss my next foothold and slip, falling peacefully into a deep slumber. I barely managed to hold onto the rock face, those whispers filling my head with poisonous promises. But I did manage it, and a few moments later my fingers grasped the top of the cliff, and I yanked myself atop it with a gasp. My lungs were burning, my chest was heaving, my whole body ached. I tried to run, but my legs felt like jelly—they gave out beneath me, and I was sent sprawling to the ground. _No, no!_ I wailed silently. _Get up! You have to keep running!_ I couldn't move. My whole body was paralyzed. I tried to close my eyes, tried to brace for the end, but I couldn't move a muscle. I listened hard for the gurgle of the water, attempting to gauge when it would reach me.

But… there was nothing.

I frowned—at least, I would have had I been able to move. The water had stopped moving. Why? I stared to my left, away from the water, where I'd been looking when I fell to the ground. _Wait…_ I thought. _The trees aren't swaying in the wind. The clouds have stopped moving. Everything is… still. Motionless. It's not just me…_

There was a voice whispering in my ear. A soft, heart wrenchingly familiar voice. Not the voice of Kira, no… it was someone else. Someone close to me.

 _Wake up…_ that voice whispered. _It's time to wake up now, Light… please, wake up…_

 _L…_ I wanted to cry out, to reach for the man whispering in my ear. But I remained paralyzed, unable to do so much as look around. _L, I'm here! I'm alive!_

The effort of even _attempting_ to speak left me breathless, and for a moment I thought I was about to pass out as my lungs suddenly refused to function. The landscape around me was darkening, and I realized with a start that I really _was_ falling into unconsciousness—but that couldn't be, since I was already unconscious. Perhaps, I thought, I was _waking up._ I wanted to think on that further, to decipher just what was happening—but before I could, the world slipped out from under me, and I was thrown into darkness.

†††

My eyes opened slowly, and the first thing I felt was agony. It felt slightly dulled for some reason, but it was still there, gnawing painfully at my body. I heard the sound of something being set down beside me, and immediately my mind filled with panic. Oh god… had Beyond returned? Was that why I had awoken, why I'd been torn from that landscape of silver and red? What tortures had he planned for today? I pushed myself back against the headboard—wait, headboard? Was I on a bed? No matter, I still pushed myself as far against the headboard as I could, eyes flitting about in search of Beyond. Then, finally I saw him. I thought that something seemed off about him… but my mind felt to fuzzy for me to recognize what that difference was. All I knew was that he was getting closer, and when that happened pain _always_ followed.

"Light, please, I need you to calm down!" the monster insisted, his expression uncharacteristically concerned.

I looked up at him and shook my head. _No… no! I have to escape! I can't take any more of this!_

†††

Light appeared terrified, eyes glazed as he stared at L. "No," he whimpered. "Beyond… please, get away!" L slowly raised a hand, taking a step forward. The teen had been peacefully sleeping just a few moments ago—but he'd suddenly tensed, his whole form rigid with pain—and then he'd awoken with a terrible, rattling gasp, pushing himself back against the headboard as L set down the pen he'd been twirling between two fingers.

"I am not Beyond," he insisted sharply, attempting to calm the panicking teen. "I am L!" Another step forward.

"Please!" Light repeated, his plea growing to a shriek as L refused to stop his advance. "Please!" The word was thrown at him like a prayer. "I can't take this any more! Just kill me; don't hurt me any more!"

L drew back with a gasp. Kill him? The damage to his psyche was greater than he'd feared. "I won't come any closer," he assured the panicked teen. Immediately relief flooded into his amber eyes. He curled himself into a ball, eyes still watching L tentatively. He was clearly too damaged to recognize L at the moment. He would need time to recover. "Are you hungry?" L offered. "I could arrange for Watari to bring you some food."

He snarled as if the idea were the worst in the world. "You already pulled that one," he spat. "Aphrodisiac in the food…"

L shuddered at the thought. "I promise, there won't be anything harmful in what I bring you. Will you eat?"

The teen shook his head harshly, curling his arms tighter over his legs. He winced as the action jarred his ribs, but didn't make a move to change positions. "Don't torture me," he whispered, voice barely audible. "I'll tell you anything, do anything you want! Just please, please don't do _that_ again!"

"I won't," L said softly, though he wasn't quite sure what _that_ was referring to. "Will you at least drink something?" He plucked a glass of water from the bedside table and pushed it towards Light with one finger. The teen eyed the glass wearily before reaching out and taking it. He stared suspiciously into the clear liquid, inhaling the scent carefully. Seemingly deciding it was safe, Light began to drink deeply from it. Good… that was good. "Light, do you know who I am?"

"Beyond," he rasped. "Murderer."

"And… how do you feel about L?"

"L…?" He sounded confused. "I… I l-loved him."

 _Loved?_ "What do you mean by loved?"

"Y-you said I s-shouldn't love L," he stuttered, expression completely devoid of life. It was as if it had been programmed into him. "Y-you wanted me to g-give up on him…"

"Do not give up on L!" L snapped harshly, taking a step forward subconsciously. "You're not allowed to give up!" He regretted the words immediately when Light screeched, throwing himself from the bed and backing into a corner like a scared animal.

"S-sorry!" Light sank into a crouch, eyes cast towards the ground.

L slowly approached, kneeling a few feet from Light. He inched closer, growing bolder when Light showed no sign of running. He held up his palms in a calming gesture as Light's eyes flitted up and down his form. For a moment something like recognition flickered through his amber orbs. But it was gone so fast it was hard to be sure. L slowly reached out with one hand, palm up, and touched the fingertips to Light's knee.

The reaction was immediate.

Instead of drawing away like L had expected, Light was suddenly flat on his back, stalk still. His eyes were squeezed shut, fists clenched in terror, but he wouldn't move from his position. L frowned, considering what that might mean. But his questions were immediately answered when Light spread his legs slightly, whimpering, "Please… gently this time!"

"Light, no!" L hissed, tugging at him in an attempt to get him standing. "I don't want that from you!"

The teen turned his head to one side. It took a moment for L to realize that he was baring his neck submissively. God… what had Beyond _done_ to him? "Oh, Light…" he whispered, lowering himself over the teen's body in a gentle embrace, as not to further damage his ribs. Light tensed the moment L touched him, but still didn't move. L ran his hands through sweat dampened hair, longing to kiss Light but knowing that doing so would only cement his belief that he was Beyond.

L gently rose, lifting Light back to the bed. The teen stared at him with bewildered eyes.

"You're not going to have your way with me today?" he asked. "You're not going to do anything? Not even kiss me?"

"No," L sighed. "I am not Beyond Birthday. I am L, and I would never do anything to hurt you."

Light stared, confused. "But… you're him. You're the murderer!"

"I'm not—!" L wondered briefly if this was how Light had felt being constantly accused of being Kira. "Light… I swear to you, I am not Beyond, and I will not hurt you. Now, please… you need to rest. You're not thinking clearly. It will all be better when you next awaken, I promise."

"But—!" the teen spluttered indignantly.

"No," L cut him off. "Rest now, Light." When the teen still didn't move, L reached a hand out and pushed him down gently, settling him back onto the pillows.

Light shied away from L's touch as if he'd been struck, immediately closing his eyes. But it was a long while before he actually found rest again, the change in his breathing signaling his passage into an uneasy slumber.

L reached out a few minutes after the teen fell asleep, caressing the side of his bruised face with a few fingertips. When he showed no signs of moving, the detective leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lover's forehead. "It will all be better when you wake up," he whispered.

If only, L thought, that were true.

†††

Light's eyes opened again one day later. This time he pressed himself back against the headboard just as he had the first time. But when his eyes fell on L, he immediately deflated, tears beginning to form at his eyes. "L…" he whimpered, and the detective was more than relieved to know that Light recognized him.

"Light," he whispered in return, closing the distance between them and embracing him fiercely. "I'm here… you're okay."

"L," he repeated, and the detective could feel hot tears soaking through his shirt. "No… I'm not okay. Everything is wrong, nothing is okay!" He sounded so _panicked_.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Beyond… you have no idea…" He choked as he attempted to speak, fists curling weakly into my shirt. It was a long while before he spoke his next words. "I'm broken…"

"No!" L snapped, holding him tighter. "You're cracked and damaged, but not broken. I can seal the splinters in your mask if you give me the chance, I promise you." Light looked upon the detective with so much pain and sadness—it was heartbreaking to see what Beyond had managed to do in just ten days.

"Oh, L," he whispered, bringing a hand up to press against his cheek. "I'm so sorry, but…" He trailed off, eyes glazing over as his arm fell back to his side, completely limp.

Light didn't say anything else that day. Instead he leaned back against the pillows and stared unseeingly at the ceiling. L could only imagine what horrors he was reliving behind those amber eyes. Light didn't resist as L curled up against him—though he had no way of knowing if that was because Beyond had drilled it into his skull that he wasn't allowed to resist his advances. Either way, L wrapped the younger man in his arms and nuzzled comfortingly into his neck, which was still marked with several purple splotches and bite marks—and of course, that long, thin cut. L gently kissed Light's throat, caressing the bruised flesh with his lips. A jolt of pain shot through his chest when Light's only response was a slight flinch. He was going to have to work on fixing that. He wanted Light to smile when he kissed him. He wanted to hear Light's voice carry something other than pain.

When the nightmares began, L crushed Light to his chest and didn't let go.

†††

I kept going over it, again, and again, and again… It didn't seem real.

I was Kira.

Well, I was _possessed_ by Kira—but he had been created from my mind.

It was all… my… fault.

These hands had killed hundreds of people… I had personally seen to the demise of other humans, and I had been _happy_ watching them die. Worst of all, I'd planned to kill L! I'd tried to kill the one person in this world I never wanted to see hurt! I couldn't accept that, no matter what. But the other part of my mind, the part bathed in blood, was whispering poisonous words into my ear, urging me to strangle him while he slept. My mind couldn't handle such conflicting ideas. I could feel myself at my breaking point. I was so torn up… I could barely speak to L. I wanted to look him in the eye and tell him the three words that would be my doom.

 _I am Kira._

But my lips refused to form the words. All I could do was stare at L endlessly, observe his beautiful face and think about the fact that soon I would tell him the truth and he would have no choice but to have me executed.

 _Kira is wrong,_ I thought. _He has to be… if I confess, then L can't simply step back and let a murderer go free. He'll have no choice but to deliver me to justice for what I've done. He'll be faced with a choice between killing Kira and saving me, and… and he won't choose me. Duty must come before love. I… I don't want this to happen. I don't want to die, but…if it's true that fighting Kira is just putting off the inevitable, if it's true that the child shinigami has underestimated Kira's power… then perhaps it would be better for me to leave this world before I have the chance to hurt anyone else. If I go on like this… I could end up killing L._

I knew that when L delivered me to my execution, it would hurt him greatly. But it was far preferable to leave him alive and in mourning than to kill him and be forced to live with the fact that I was the one who allowed it to happen. This…my death…it was best for all of us.

Soon I would never have to live with the pain of being Kira again. Soon… I would regain my ability to speak, and I could end my own pathetic life.

†††

The day came soon enough. I awoke and tested my voice out. "L."

He looked up at me, and the hope in his eyes almost made me lose the will to tell him. But the pain deep in my chest that had nothing to do with my injuries made me remember why I had to. What would happen if I didn't.

"Light!" he gasped. "Are you coherent? How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," I lied. "It doesn't hurt so badly now."

He looked more than relieved. "Thank god… I was so worried you weren't going to come back to yourself."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd come back to myself the second time I'd awoken, and just hadn't gotten up the nerve to speak to him again. "I'm back," I assured him. "But L… there's something that you need to know."

"It can wait," L said softly. "Light, I know how much this must hurt, but… I need to know what Beyond did to you."

I winced. "I'm sorry, L, but those memories are painful. I don't want to relive them."

He reached out a hand and brushed it through my hair. I could tell he was longing to kiss me, but didn't want to spark up unpleasant memories. "Please, tell me," he whispered. "You don't have to go into extreme detail, just… say something."

I bowed my head. I would have to tell him sooner than later. Slowly, I began, voice shaking uncontrollably. "You saw the results of what he did, and the rooms with his torture devices in them. I'm sure you can put two and two together. He…he tortured me with knives, whips, anything he could get his hands on. And he… he violated me." I shuddered, blocking out the countless memories surging to the forefront of my mind. "Again, and again… he was nothing like you."

"Beyond has always been a masochist of sorts," L murmured. "I can't imagine what he must have done to you."

"You saw the room. The one with the steel table, the one covered in blood. You can imagine the rest."

Pain flickered across his features. "I am truly sorry that I couldn't find you in time." He leaned closer, and before I knew what was happening he was straddling me, pressing me lightly into the bed. He was practically shaking with relief as he held me close, and I realized with a start just how shaken he'd been by all of this. His fingertips brushed across my face gently, and the loving adoration in his eyes was unbearable. "Light…" he whispered. "Can I…?"

I barely had the chance to nod before he leaned in and kissed me chastely. I almost tried to pull away and tell him the truth, but it felt so good to be kissing someone I loved again that I melted against him, pulling him closer for just a heartbeat, allowing myself just one more moment of comfort before I brought the roof down on his head.

"L," I whispered, sitting up and shifting him from my lap. "I need you to be serious. Listen to me."

He nodded, watching me intently.

I took a deep breath. That had been the last time I would ever kiss L. This was the last time he would ever look at me with that innocence that I loved so much. This was it. The end. "Did you take a black notebook from the warehouse?"

"Yes, actually. How did you know about it?"

"It… it is called the Death Note, and it is how Kira kills. The person who has ownership of that notebook has the power to kill by writing a name in it." L opened his mouth to say something, but I silenced him with a shake of my head. I would not let him interrupt this. "When you have ownership, you retain all memories of everything you do with the notebook. But the instant you relinquish control, all memories of the Death Note and what you did while using it vanish. You suspected that Misa and I were controlled using the notebook and then were suddenly released with no memories of our actions. But you were _wrong_ , L, because the Death Note cannot control the actions of people unless they are about to die." I locked eyes with him. "Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

His eyes were wide, jaw slack. "You… you were in possession of a Death Note, and you relinquished possession. That's why you suddenly lost your memories. But… how do you remember all of this now?"

"Beyond had two Death Notes," I went on, dreading the next part of the story. "He gave up possession of one and passed it on to me." I reached out a bruised hand, the one with the two broken fingers, and caressed his cheek. "I remember everything, L," I whispered. "I remember who I am."

"Kira," he rasped. Tears were forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I offered softly. "But you were right. I am Kira."

"You… you murdered hundreds of people!" His voice was shaky. "You tried to kill me time and time again… you were so _cruel!_ You can't tell me that it was all you! I'd hoped that you were telling me the truth when you denied your identity as Kira!"

"I'm telling you now. _I am Kira._ I am the one the task force has been looking for, the original. I am more than aware that by revealing my identity to you, you are now obligated to turn me in and have me executed. However…" My voice cracked, and just for a heartbeat I was unable to speak. "I… I would like to ask a favor of you. I don't want my father to suffer any more than he already has, or any more than is necessary. So please, L… don't tell him who I am. At least make my execution private, and tell him that I died of my injuries." I ran my thumb across L's cheek, removing the trail of liquid that had escaped one of his obsidian eyes. "You… you could do it now, L. You could kill me before I have the chance to hurt anyone else. You could spare yourself the pain of waiting for my execution."

"Light—!"

"But before you kill me, I need to explain what has happened. You… you deserve to know." I took a deep, shaky breath. I could barely look at L, could barely look upon the pain displayed so blatantly across his face. "In the beginning, I was the same as Kira. We were one and the same, sharing the same ideals, the same plan. But when I gave up the Death Note, something changed. Something big." I reached out and clasped his hands in mine. "I fell in love with you, L, and rejected Kira's way of thinking in favor of staying with you. I would have been happy… happy to stay by your side forever. But then Beyond got his hands on me, and forced my memories down my throat. When Kira was introduced once again he found that I had changed too much for him to fuse back with me and take control. So my consciousness split into two parts. Kira and Light are no longer one and the same. And worst of all, Kira wants control. I'm fighting him, fighting him with everything I have…but I don't think it's working. I was told that it was possible to fight against him with nothing more than my will, that it was possible for me to put an end to him that way…but the more I think about it, the more I try to fight him, the more I think it's not true. He's just too strong… unless I can find a way to end him permanently, he is going to win. And… I've found a permanent way, L. I've found a way that's inescapable for the both of us." I leaned slightly closer, resting my forehead against his. "Please… you have to kill me. Kill me before I can become Kira once again. Kill me before I'm forced to watch him kill _you_." I leaned away slowly. L… he wouldn't want to be so close to me anymore, not now that he knew I was a monster.

For a long, terrifying moment there was nothing but silence as L stared at me. His expression was completely blank, but I could hear his heart shattering. Any moment now that sorrow would turn to anger. It would only be a few moments before L pulled a gun on me and shot me in the head, or cuffed me and hauled me away to some dingy jail cell to wait for my execution. I would die, with L a witness to my humiliating end. "Beyond," he murmured. "He has done this unspeakable thing to you, has turned you back into a monster…and now I am offered a choice—sacrifice you to kill Kira, or allow you to live and a murderer to walk free within you." He leaned closer, and confusion darted through me. Why was he coming closer? He should be reaching for a weapon! "You're asking me to kill you?" he whispered. "You're asking me to choose between my duty as a detective and the affection I feel for you?"

I offered him a minute nod, praying that he would make the right decision.

"I'm sorry, Light," he breathed.

A wave of relief shot through me. This was it… he'd chosen to kill me.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "But you've overestimated my ability to remove myself from the situation." L slowly moved closer. I had only a moment to gasp before he was crushed against me in an embrace. "Light Yagami," he murmured into my shoulder. "I will not kill you."

 _No! It's just like Kira said!_ "You have to kill me!" I demanded desperately. "You have to! You can't just let a murderer walk free! It's only a matter of time before my will gives out, and when that happens, there's no telling what I'll do! What _Kira_ will do!"

He curled himself around me. "I love you," he whispered. "And I'm not going to let a little thing like Kira take you away from me."

The surge of emotion I felt at hearing L speak those words vanished beneath a torrent of fear. "L, you don't understand! If my resolve slips even a fraction Kira could take control, and he could kill you! It's better for everyone if you just kill me now, before I have a chance to hurt anyone else!" _One more slip, one more accident, and I could fall into the red sea. If that happens, it's all over. Why can't he see that?_

"No."

I gawked at him. No? That was it?

L pressed his lips to mine, and this time it wasn't in the same chaste way it had been before. He forced his way into my mouth powerfully, dominating me completely, forcing a strangled gasp from my lips. He bit playfully at my bottom lip, careful not to draw blood as Beyond had.

"L—!" I gasped, attempting to push him away again.

"Don't you dare move, Yagami!" he snarled. "You want to be punished so badly? Then just lay there and take it!" His lips were back on mine before I had a chance to respond. His nimble fingers slipped the buttons loose from my shirt, pulling the cloth from my scarred body. I gasped as he accidentally put weight on my chest. He moved off of the sore area, but didn't pull back long enough to apologize.

"L, stop this!" I begged, turning my head away. "I don't deserve you! I'm just as bad as Beyond…"

He bit my neck harshly at that. "Don't you dare compare yourself to Beyond!" he spat, eyes gleaming. "You are nothing like him, and you don't deserve his so-called punishment! You deserve me, nothing more, nothing less." His fingers ran along the marks on my chest. "Beyond did this because he knew that we harbored strong feelings for each other. He knew that by working together we could take him down, and he knew he had to separate us. That is why he took you."

I shook my head. "No, L. He took me because I was Kira, and he wanted to weaken me enough so that I may become him again. He wanted to work with me to _kill_ you—and if you let this continue, that may be exactly what ends up happening." I tried to push him back again, but he refused to move. "L, please, I—!" His fingers dipped beneath the hem of my boxers, and immediately panic shot through me. Before I knew what I was doing I had thrown him off and was suddenly off the bed, crouching in the corner as L righted himself. "Stop! Please, stop!" I was practically panting as images flashed through my mind. Images of Beyond holding a knife over my exposed body, forcing me to my knees, taking me time and time again…

"Light?" L asked nervously, all hints of lust gone from his eyes.

"Just stay away!" I ordered breathlessly. "Don't come any closer!" L began to take a step forward, then seemed to think better of it.

"I'm sorry," he murmured after a moment, kneeling down. "I didn't mean to do that, I just—"

He had been angry. He had lashed out in anger turned lust, furious with himself for being unable to remove himself from the situation emotionally and kill me. "I understand," I breathed. L…You have to kill me."

For a moment he just stared, the pain in his eyes raw and unchecked. But then he suddenly stood and turned away, striding over to his desk and rifling through the top drawer. He was holding the Death Note when he turned back. "Maybe not!" he said. "You can't kill if you don't have this, correct? Kira can't do anything!"

"…No," I said hesitantly. "He can't."

"Then you will give up possession of it, and I will hide it away where you can never find it! With your memories once again gone and the notebook hidden you will be safe!"

I'd predicted this reaction. "Kira is preventing me from giving it up," I said softly. "I've tried countless times since I've awoken, L. But Kira… he's already gained a portion of control, and he's using it to make sure I don't lose my memories."

L's expression fell. "Then I will hide it away so that he cannot get his hands on it, and you can continue investigating this case with me! We can do something to stop him, we can—"

"No. You can hide away the notebook, but Kira will still be fighting to gain control. I'm holding him off now, but I don't know how strong he will get, or how long I can fight him before he breaks my mind permanently. As I said, I was told that it was possible to win against him using my own will as a weapon… but the longer Kira remains in my mind, the less likely that seems. I don't know if I'll be able to best him. _He_ certainly doesn't think I'll be able to win."

The detective ran a hand through his hair, stress evident in the way he held himself. "Then I will make sure I am watching you at all times. That way if he gains control I can restrain you."

He wasn't going to budge. No matter what I said, he was going to come up with some way around having to kill me. "You can't watch me forever. What happens when you need to sleep?"

"I'll have one of my successors watch over us."

"You can't keep that up forever," I repeated. "At some point you're going to make a mistake, or get too comfortable, and Kira will _kill_ you and everyone else on the task force. That includes your successors, you know! Do you want your selfish actions to result in their deaths?"

"No. If I kill anyone, it will be Beyond. I have one of the notebooks, and I'm not afraid to use it if that's what I need to do."

Immediately I reached out, sealing a hand around my lover's wrist. "L." I felt my eyes blaze with heat, felt the intensity radiating from my stare. "Promise me. Promise me, L, that you won't use that notebook under _any circumstances._ "

L blinked, surprised. "What?"

"Listen to me," I ground out. "You _cannot_ use that notebook, no matter _what. Promise_ me, L."

"Do I get an explanation?"

I looked away, thinking of one of the rules of the note—that whoever used it would have no afterlife. I didn't want that for L. "No. Not now. I just want you to kill me and be done with it."

I will not kill you. It is pointless to argue the matter." He picked up a pair of handcuffs from the table. "And I cannot promise you that I will never use the notebook. But I will promise you that I will only use it as a last resort." He approached, me, and I made a point to make my eyes as large and pleading as possible. It didn't work. "Lay back down. I'm going to restrain you now."

It was better than nothing. I did as he asked, and didn't protest when I felt the cuffs click over both wrists, the abnormally long chain wound around a beam in the headboard. I tugged experimentally, pleased when it didn't budge.

"I need to go speak with my successors about your awakening. You will remain here until I return."

"Okay." I spoke the word softly, trying to convey every swirling emotion I felt in those two syllables.

Judging by the agonized look L threw me, it worked. As he walked out of the room I felt a sudden jolt of pain in the back of my mind. Kira…he was scratching at the walls, and deep within the recesses of my mind, I felt that sea of red expanding. His will raged against mine powerfully, and as I felt that pain begin to increase. I could only hope that L came to his senses and killed me before it was too late. For without the release of death, I knew not how long I could continue to hold Kira back.

†††

L slipped into Mello's room to find all three successors sitting in various places, grim looks on their faces. They had clearly been discussing Beyond and the Kira case.

"Light is awake," L said dully.

"And how is he?" Near prompted. "Is he stable mentally? Does he remember who you are?"

"He is not stable," L responded. "Far from it. As for his memory… I fear that he remembers too much."

Mello frowned, kicking his feet up on the coffee table beside his bed and leaning his back heavily against the wall. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've told you before that I believed Light was being controlled by Kira before he suddenly lost his power and memories. I've always been watching for when those memories would begin to return. I thought that there was no way he could possibly just _forget_ being Kira permanently. I thought that once his memories began to return we would have an easy time of catching Kira, and I could convict Light and be done with it."

"But then you fell in love with him," Matt said, a small smile on his face. "I can't see you turning him in now, even if his memories returned."

L ignored him, turning away the jolt of pain that those words brought. "I have learned many from the Death Note we acquired, and many things from Light himself. One of those things involves the technicalities of memory loss."

"You think the notebook is real, then?" Mello asked.

"I know it is real, and I'm getting to that. But please, listen. I learned that as long as you possess a Death Note you retain all memories of what you do while using it. But the instant you relinquish possession, your memories are erased. To regain them you must regain possession of a Death Note, though I don't believe it has to be the one that you originally used. Your memories will then be fully restored, and you can pick up where you left off using the note. Based off of this, I can say that Beyond killed Higuchi and claimed ownership of his Death Note. When he had Light in his possession, he returned that Death Note's possession to Light, restoring his memories completely."

All three successors shared stunned looks. "You mean… he remembers _everything?_ " Matt demanded.

"Yes. Light Yagami is Kira once again. But it's not that simple this time around."

"Kira has separated from him mentally," Near realized, eyes wide. "Hasn't he?"

"You are correct."

Mello sat up. "Let me guess; Light's memories returning created a war between personas in his mind. One half of him loved you, and the other wanted nothing more than to kill you."

"This resulted in the two halves of himself fraying and coming apart," Near continued. "Meaning that he is essentially two people, and only one can be in control at any given time."

Matt caught on. "But if that's true, then it means that you've been left with an impossible decision—killing Kira, or letting Light live."

L gritted his teeth, saying, "You are all right."

"If you kill Kira, then Light dies in the crossfire," Near continued. "But…"

"…But if you let Light live, then Kira walks free, and could regain control at any moment." Mello finished.

"It's a real predicament," L agreed softly. "Light begged me to kill him before Kira had the chance to take over." He looked up at the successors. "I have already vowed to find a way to end Kira without killing him, but I must know…" He gazed down at his successors, locking eyes with each of them in turn. "Did I do the right thing? Or should I have done as he asked?"

Mello responded hesitantly, "It does seem that all of this leads to his death. The most logical thing to do would be to execute him. After all, he's _Kira."_ Near and Matt nodded their agreement, though they looked less than pleased.

L felt like his world had closed in around him. They thought he should kill Light? Was everyone against him? "That's it, then," he said, voice shaking. "Will I be forced to kill him?" He wouldn't do it. He would rather die himself.

"No," Mello said quickly. "I didn't say that. I said that the most _logical_ thing would be to kill him. But we've never been the type to back down from the impossible."

"Yeah," Matt agreed, lowering his goggles. "If you want to keep your boyfriend alive, then we're with you all the way."

"We'll get through this." Near made his way over to L and clasped a hand to his shoulder comfortingly. "Light's mind is severely damaged; we're not going to deny that. But there must be a way to help him."

Relief surged through the detective. They were going to help him! They were going to protect Light! "We'll have to start making plans," he said determinedly, hands clasped together in thought. "I have him restrained at the moment, but we can't keep him like that. We'll have to keep a close watch over him—with the state of mind he's in now, I wouldn't be surprised if he turns suicidal."

"Agreed," Near said. "We can act as his guards and stop him from doing anything rash. In addition, we must make sure that not a word of this is breathed to his father or any other member of the task force."

"That won't be easy," Matt pointed out. "If he thinks the task force will order his execution if he tells them he's Kira, then he'll tell them with no questions asked. It won't be easy to stop him from saying anything."

"What can we do to stop him?" Mello questioned thoughtfully. "Do we leave him locked up here?"

"We could tell the task force that he's traumatized from what was done to him, and has to be confined until he recovers," L suggested.

"But then his father and family might want to see him!" Matt protested.

"We'll gag him before they visit. We can say that he wouldn't stop screaming, and that his throat and lungs are too damaged for us to allow it to continue." L allowed a small smile. "We can also sedate him if necessary. That way we can keep him safe and still keep the task force satisfied."

"Well," Mello said, glancing around for confirmation from the other two successors. "It sounds like a good idea. But I don't think Light will take too kindly to it."

"He doesn't have to like it as long as it works," L said. "We will have to stay with him in shifts so he doesn't hurt himself."

"Sounds good." Mello got to his feet. "Should we start now?"

"Yes, it must begin now," L said. "Near, I want you to go down to the task force and tell them that Light is awake and still breathing. While you do that, Mello will take the first watch with me. In three hours, Matt will replace him, and in another three hours, Near will do the same."

Near nodded his consent, throwing in, "Throughout the night one of us must always be in the room and awake just in case Kira takes the opportunity to take control. And if Kira takes hold of him once again, he should be moved immediately from the task force headquarters and restrained somewhere remote. We can't risk him getting loose and hurting anyone."

"We should also consider the possibility if Kira gains control, Light may never be able to get it back," Mello said darkly. "I don't want to sound morbid, but should that happen, Light may rather be dead than controlled by Kira for the rest of his life."

L's eyes flickered shut. "I understand. And should it appear that Light will never take back control, I know that it would be cruel to keep him alive and trapped within his own mind. I… I swear to you that I will end his pain should it come to that."

The mood in the room dropped suddenly.

"I am going to take Light to our room," L said at last. "He is still in the infirmary, and I'm sure that he would prefer to be somewhere familiar. Near, please go to the task force now. Mello, I want you to be waiting for me in my room when I return with Light. You're taking the first watch, remember."

Near nodded and left the room without a sound. A moment later, Mello did the same, followed by Matt.

L steeled himself and headed up towards the infirmary.

†††

 _Your resistance is pointless,_ Kira whispered, his voice echoing in my skull. I was still awake, but my double's voice had a way to find me even here. _The sea is expanding… it won't be long before I crack your mind open._

"You won't win!" I hissed aloud. "No matter what, I'm going to stop you!"

 _I was right about L. He refused to kill you. He still loves you, even though he knows that you murdered all those people. What do you think will happen to him when I take over and kill him? Will he blame you? Or will he decide that you couldn't control your own actions? Will he die knowing that he couldn't save you? It would break him, you know…_

"Be quiet," I ordered furiously. "I'm not going to listen to you!"

 _Shame,_ he muttered. _You could save me a whole lot of trouble if you'd just give in. It would be perfect, you know… I would gain control, find Beyond, and we would rule this world together._

I started at the mention of my captor. "Don't you dare give him our body again!" I snapped. "You should kill him!"

 _If you want him dead so badly, all you'd have to do is use the Death Note. All it would take is a few strokes of a pen, and you could take revenge. You could throw your humanity out the window and embrace what you really are—an enforcer of justice._

"I refuse to use the Death Note. I'd be just as bad as you if I did."

 _What if I said I'd do it for you? If you let me take control for a moment I could find the Death Note and kill him._

"You're lying," I spat. "If I give you control, you'll never give it back. And besides, you don't want to kill Beyond, you want to work with him. I promise you, Kira, I will _never_ give you control."

 _You don't have a choice._ As if to emphasize his point I suddenly felt a harsh jab against the back of my mind, folding my body in half. I gasped painfully as he pushed at my skull, not wanting to think about how much of my mind had just been bathed in red. _Such a fragile creature…_ he whispered. Pressure was building at an alarming rate in the back of my head. _You should be thankful, my Light… thankful that for as long as your consciousness resides in the waking world, I cannot bathe you in red. But the instant you slip away, the instant you return to your silver body in that silver world… I will come after you with everything I have, I assure you. You will not last long against me. I will wrest control. And then I will give you back to Beyond so that you might learn your place._

"You can't!" I couldn't go back to that metal table, I couldn't!

A low snarl resonated from the darkest recesses of my mind. _He enjoyed playing with you so much before, and he did such a good job of breaking you down! I'm sure he could repeat the process again when given my permission to be as brutal as possible with you._

I didn't have a response for those terrifying words. A small part of me, the part conditioned by Beyond, wanted to beg for mercy.

 _I can read your thoughts, you know. Begging may work on Beyond, but I am a different story. Beg all you want—I will do nothing to ease your pain until you give in to me and fade into nonexistence._

I opened my mouth, a response on the tip of my tongue, when the door suddenly opened. I looked up to see L and Mello standing in the doorway.

"Light?" L asked hesitantly, entering the room. "Are you still… you?"

"It hurts…" I choked out, pulling against the chain. "He's fighting me, L." I brought my knees up to my chest, longing to make the pain go away. My head was beginning to ache horribly, and the thought of it getting worse and worse as Kira consumed more and more of my mind made me wince. How strong would the pain get? Could I handle it? I felt so afraid…I didn't realize how heavily I was breathing until L was resting a hand on my chest with an expression of concern.

"Do you want something to ease the pain?" he asked. "Medicine?"

I nodded desperately, praying that it would at least lift _some_ of the pressure. The painkillers were slipped into my hand along with a glass of water. I wasted no time in swallowing the tiny capsules. I barely noticed the concerned look the two detectives were shooting my way. "Thanks," I managed.

"Light, we've come up with a plan for keeping you safely confined while we deal with Kira."

Ridiculous. What did he expect he could do to get rid of Kira? I had only three options—relinquishing possession of the notebook, fighting Kira with my own will, or dying—and of those, two were impossible, and L had turned down the third. There was nothing he could do, and I knew it. I ground out, "So the successors know? And they're not going to kill me as I requested?"

"Nah," Mello said. "We don't exactly like the fact that L loves the guy possessed by Kira, but we're more than willing to protect you if that's what L wants." He was feigning carelessness, but I could see the carefully concealed anger in his eyes. Was he mad at _me?_

I lowered my head. "You shouldn't protect me. I deserve to die."

L opened his mouth to protest, but Mello beat him to it.

The second ranked successor was across the room in seconds, face twisted in a snarl, and he was suddenly gripping my shoulders. He knelt, glaring at me. We were on the same level now, and seeing someone so close to me was once again sparking up fear in my chest. I choked down the overwhelming panic beginning to spread throughout my body.

"You're an idiot," Mello snarled. "Your mind is in shambles, your body is wrecked, and you're possessed. And worst of all, you've killed hundreds of people. But impossibly, L loves you despite it all, you got that? So stop throwing a temper tantrum, screw your head on straight, and get back acting rationally!"

I felt like I was suffocating. I longed to push Mello away and tell him again just why I had to die—but for some reason my lungs refused to supply my body with oxygen, my lips wouldn't form words.

L seemed to realize how badly I was panicking. "Mello!" he snapped, darting forward and throwing him away from me. "Get away from him!" Immediately the terror receded like a wave, freeing my aching lungs to once again draw breath in deep, rattling pulls.

Mello staggered, regaining his footing. "What the hell?"

"Couldn't you see what you were doing? He was on the verge of a panic attack!"

The blonde's eyes widened as they darted from me to L, his expression transitioning from anger to horror in a heartbeat. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't realize—!"

"It's okay," I murmured, still subconsciously tugging at the chain binding me to the headboard. "Let's just go to the room."

L unlocked the cuffs and helped me to my feet. His touch sent unpleasant shivers down my spine. _What's wrong with me?_ I asked silently. _Why am I so afraid?_ L seemed to notice my unease, and took care to make as little contact as possible. I was sure he assumed that this was a product of being tortured for so many days. I began to walk, struggling to ignore the pressure in the back of my mind. Kira was a constant presence, pressing against my mental walls.

I lost myself in fighting that presence in hope that I would get even a moment of peace. I only snapped back to reality when I realized that we were already back in our room, and L was waiting expectantly for me to get in bed. I obeyed, watching as Mello sat in the desk chair and locked his eyes on me. It was unnerving, having those chocolate brown eyes watching so closely. L slipped into the bed beside me, rolling on his side to face me. A heartbeat later the lights clicked off, casting the entire room in darkness. L watched me intently. I couldn't figure out why he was staring until he said,

"Aren't you going to roll over?"

Of course… I'd forgotten how we usually slept, my back to his chest. "O-of course," I stuttered. "I forgot." I felt Mello's eyes boring into me as I rolled over, tensing slightly as L's arm curled over my waist, pressing himself as close to me as possible. Something felt wrong about lying with L when Mello was in the room.

"You're worried about Mello," L murmured in a voice so low that I knew the blonde wouldn't hear. "You don't want him watching us."

I forced myself to smile, even though I knew he couldn't see it from where he lay. "It'll be kind of hard to have any alone time when your successors are watching us constantly."

"If you want to have sex, all you have to do is ask and I'll tell him to leave," he whispered. "But I doubt that you want it right now, after your reaction to my advances back in the infirmary."

I shuddered. "You just scared me," I explained softly. "You look so much like him, and when you kissed me—"

His arm tightened around my waist. I felt his chin rest lightly against the top of my head. "I know. Don't worry; you'll be able to pull through it eventually. It'll just take time."

I nodded without really believing, feeling detached. I wanted to rest, but the pounding in my head was making it difficult, and I knew that the instant I dropped off, I would be back in that silvery forest, running from that sea of red. The instant I slipped into that world, I would be in danger of being consumed by Kira.

I sensed L drop off long before I could get any rest. He must have been exhausted from staying up so much in the past few days. I, on the other hand, was awake so long that I heard Mello and Near switch place, three hours later. Near pulled his seat up beside me and crouched in a way almost like L. He watched me closely, making me try all the harder to appear asleep. I think he knew that I was only pretending. But he didn't say anything, and it was in this way that I finally found myself drifting into a restless doze.

Kira was waiting for me in my dreams.

 **Just to be clear, I'm well aware that in the DN universe, all humans go to Mu. But in this story, Light hasn't figured that out quite yet. Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, because it's one of my favorites! Getting to write for Kira is seriously fun, especially when I get to torture poor Light at the same time :)**

 **Leave a review if you enjoyed, and I'll be back on Saturday with another chapter!**


	12. The Sun Trail

**Welcome to chapter twelve! This one is a bit of a filler, but there's still some decently important stuff that takes place near the end. And thanks for all the awesome reviews on the last chapter! I'm glad that this story is enjoyable to read!**

 **To Blazedoll: ah, yes, the falsified rules written in Higuchi's Death Note, and L's failure to think of destroying the notebook. Fear not, for as Light's inability to give up the notebook was explained in the last chapter,** _ **those**_ **little problems will be dealt with in this one. Thanks for pointing it out!**

 **Chapter 12: The Sun Trail**

I awoke far too early, when Matt was still keeping watch. I jolted lightly in L's hold when I returned to the waking world, recalling my time spent in that horrifying landscape of silver and red. This time, at least, I hadn't heard Kira's voice. I'd spent the whole time running, the silence broken only by the crunching of leaves beneath my feet and the swishing of grass in the wind. The water was constantly at my heels, and I was hard pressed to avoid it. But I did manage to avoid it, and by the time I was hit by the paralysis that signified my awakening, I remained untouched by even a drop of the scarlet water. I took at least a modicum of comfort in knowing that for as long as I was awake, I didn't have to run away from that water. I shifted slightly, throwing a look over my shoulder at L. The detective was still out cold, no doubt sleeping off the events of the past several days. Turning my gaze back to the space in front of me, I saw Matt lounging back in one of the office chairs, some nondescript handheld gaming system in hand, face illuminated by the screen's glow.

Noticing my movements, Matt looked up at me with concerned eyes, lowering his game. "Did he wake you up?"

I knew he meant Kira. I nodded.

"Shame," Matt said sympathetically. "You haven't got long before L's supposed to wake up. How's the head?"

My head throbbed with every beat of my heart. It seemed that the headache was caused by Kira's advancements, much like the red sea—and just like the red sea, it was growing more and more intense, larger and larger, as time went on. "Hurts," I grumbled. "There's a lot of pressure."

"And the meds didn't help at all?"

"Not one bit. I don't think this is the kind of pain that medication can get rid of."

"Still, I'd have thought it would have done _something._ Kira must be really strong if he's able to cause you so much pain."

I wanted to tell him that it was getting worse and worse, but I couldn't choke out the words. So instead, I said, "I think Kira is doing something to my perception of fear." As if to illustrate my point, fear tore through me. Still, I forced the fear down, closing my eyes briefly and carefully keeping my breathing under control.

"He's making you afraid of your friends," Matt said.

I nodded.

"Then, are you afraid of L?"

"I'm afraid of him at certain times, but not now. I think Kira is taunting me. He's saying, _look at me, I'm so powerful that I have the power to turn love into fear._ He did something to me when I was talking to Mello… he paralyzed me with fear."

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Right now? Yes. It was the same earlier with Mello in the infirmary. It passes, but it's not easy."

Matt immediately backed away. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Is there anything I can do?"

"You could kill me."

He shook his head, completely unsurprised with the request. "Sorry, Light, but I like you. I don't want to kill you, so I'm not going to."

"You'd kill me if you wanted to, even though L wishes to keep me alive?"

"Hell yeah I would! L's my superior and all that, but he can be a real idiot sometimes. If I thought you were a threat to this team, I would shoot you on the spot. But it just so happens that I think we have the power to restrain you as long as is necessary for us to come up with a solution."

There was no solution. No solution other than death, unless I was suddenly able to give up the notebook. Or, of course, the notebook could be burned. But I had no way to communicate that idea to L or the successors, and they had yet to think of it. "There is no solution other than my death. I don't want to die, but if the cost of Kira's life is my own, then I would be glad to pay it."

"Yeah, well L wouldn't be glad. You seem to be forgetting that you'd be leaving behind a world with people in it that love you. Quite frankly, I'd say that dying now would be taking the easy way out. I think that if I were you, I'd much rather stick around and pay my dues."

He had a point. I wanted to pay for what I had done. But the best way to do that would be dying to get rid of Kira. "I suppose you're right in that regard. I do want to live, and I want to pay my dues to the society I destroyed. But the way I see it, I can't possibly be kept alive. Kira is within me, and it's only a matter of time before he takes over. I don't like it any more than you do, but if things go on like this, you won't have a choice."

Matt raised a hand and lowered his goggles. I realized with a start that this was the first time I'd ever seen his eyes. Hazel, but a shade so light that they appeared almost completely colorless. "Okay, let's be realistic. You're right; this probably won't end well for you. But please, for L's sake, try to act like you value your life. Don't go throwing around phrases like, _I want to die_ , or _just kill me now, it's useless_. It's the least you can do for him."

I knew he was right. I owed L that, at least… but it was hard to go on pretending that everything was fine when I was almost certain that this whole nightmare would end in my death. I looked up at Matt belatedly, responding, "I can promise you that I will be there for him as long as I can." _For as long as I'm able to before Kira overwhelms me._

This seemed to satisfy him, at least for the moment. "Good. Now pretend to go back to sleep so L doesn't think you stayed up."

I shot him a weary smile, eyes slipping closed as I fell back into false sleep. Minutes later, I was in another nightmare.

†††

L walked into the investigation room the next morning to be greeted by Soichiro flying at him and gripping him by the shoulders, shaking him harshly. "We were told that Light woke up!" he cried. "Is he okay? Is he in his right mind?"

This was where the lie began. "Light is awake, and he will recover physically," L said. "He still recognizes those he knew previous to the kidnapping, and he can speak and move as well as any other human. However, his mental state is unstable at best."

Soichiro gasped, a stunned expression on his face as he took a step back.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," L lied. "He will be fine. But it's going to take time for him to recover. At the moment he's a danger to himself and everyone around, seeing as he seems to be suffering from mild delusions in which be believes that anyone approaching him is actually Beyond. He's lashed out at the successors multiple times when they tried to move him back to our room." It wasn't a complete lie—but it was far from the truth.

"So where is he?" Aizawa demanded. "You can't possibly just let him loose in the building!"

"Of course not," L reassured. "Light is in my room being watched by Mello at the moment. Near will switch places with him in a few hours, then Matt, then I. This way he will never be left alone, but he doesn't have to be restrained unless he becomes violent."

"What if he overpowers the guard?" Mogi asked carefully. "Do you have a way of knowing if he escapes his room?"

"He won't beat any of us," Near broke in. " _Especially_ not Mello. Not only is Light already incapacitated physically, but all of the successors have been trained in various forms of martial arts. And if somehow Light managed to beat Mello, he is armed with both a real gun and means by which to administer a strong sedative. But it won't come to that."

This only seemed to make Soichiro more upset. "I'd like to see him," he demanded. "My family can be kept unaware of this by saying Light has been sent off to investigate something in another part of Japan, but I cannot just sit here knowing that he is suffering!"

L frowned irritably. He'd hoped that this could wait until he'd had a chance to further assess Light's mental state. "Very well. I will take you to see him when I go up to take my shift." Soichiro opened his mouth to protest, but L was swift to cut him off. "If you do not go with me at that time, then you will not be allowed to see Light. Do I make myself clear?"

Soichiro remained glaring for a moment longer, clearly debating whether or not to start yelling. But he seemed to know that ordering L around would get him nowhere, for after a moment he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Let's find the monster that did this, shall we?"

"Sounds good," the detective agreed shortly, moving to his computer and seating himself. He rubbed absently at the place on his wrist where the his half of the handcuffs should have been, eyes flickering to Light's empty seat. A wave of uneasiness settled over him upon seeing the abandoned seat. Light… he hoped that the teen would be able to beat Kira and return to the task force soon.

Until then, L knew, all he could do was hunt Beyond down and exact revenge for what he had done.

†††

I stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the blonde-haired boy currently watching me like a hawk. Those chocolate-brown eyes picked up on the littlest movement, tucking everything away for later analysis. The whole time I was being watched I had my eyes closed, reclining back on the bed as I battled the never-ending pressure that was building in my head with every passing hour. The pain was increasing slowly, steadily, much in the same way the red sea was creeping across my mind. It was becoming harder to ignore that pain, to pretend that Kira didn't exist. I longed to drop off into a peaceful slumber, but as long as Kira kept drawing me back to that silver and red landscape, it was impossible. And so I remained awake, and that pain just kept growing, and growing, and growing… And judging by the way Mello was watching me, he could tell just how bad it was getting. Finally, after watching me toss and turn for at least an hour, be spoke up.

"Look, I have no intention of being your counselor. But I'm still going to ask you something. Is that okay?"

I nodded, focusing on him in an attempt to draw my attention away from the pain in my head.

"How do you feel?"

I blinked up at him, surprised. "My head hurts," I responded slowly. "And it's getting worse and worse. The rest of my body is achy, but I can't really focus on that when it feels like someone has taken a sledge hammer to the back of my skull."

"And emotionally?" He said the word as if it left a sour taste on his tongue.

Emotionally? I shifted uncomfortably. "Defeated, I suppose. L's been telling me that I had to be Kira ever since this case started. In fact, he was already accusing me within the first forty-eight hours we knew each other. But I never actually thought that it could be true. For all the time that I lacked my memories, I completely believed that I was innocent. And so now, to be so harshly informed that I was wrong, and that in reality I am the murderer I've been chasing…it's startling, to say the least. No, it's _disheartening_. And on top of all that, I don't know how much longer I'll have the strength to retain control. But the worst part is that I wanted to kill L _._ I wanted to _kill_ him! That's the one thing that I can't accept."

 _You_ tried _to kill him!_ Kira corrected me unhelpfully. _And you would have, too, if he hadn't suddenly imprisoned Misa before you could get his name from her!_

"Shut up!" I snapped viciously, digging my fingernails into my scalp, tugging at my hair harshly. Mello stared at me, startled. His hand had shot to his hip, where I knew his gun was holstered. "It… it's Kira," I told him, half hoping he would go through with it and shoot me on the spot.

"He can speak to you?" He sounded alarmed.

"Yes. He's been keeping me up, sending me nightmares ever since he was reintroduced. Nightmares of a land made of silver."

"He's moving fast," Mello murmured. "Your headaches weren't this bad just yesterday. You're… you're _degrading_."

"You'd degrade too if you had a god in your head," I groaned, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. I let out a low chuckle, saying, "You know what really sucks about this? I'm suffering through all this pain, and in the end I'm just going to end up dead. At some point L is going to realize that I'm a lost cause, and he's going to have to kill me. It would be so much easier if I just gave in… L would have no choice but to kill me then."

Mello leapt to his feet, eyes blazing. "Don't you dare give in!" he snarled, reaching for his gun once again. "I won't hesitate to shoot if you threaten me!"

I shot him a sideways glance. "I hope you realize that that's all the more incentive to give in. The only thing that's stopping me from carrying out that plan is the fact that I believe he would hurt you. That he would hurt _L_. All I was doing was pointing out the obvious—that should I fail in keeping him out, all of this would stop. I could rest."

"Yeah, well… you're not allowed to rest!" Mello snapped, clearly uneasy. "You're going to fight him until we find a way to get rid of him!"

Killing me would get rid of him. I knew that much. If I died while Kira possessed me, he would never have the chance to move on to another target, for L would destroy the notebook or lock it away forever. Or better yet, one of the two shinigami who had dropped Death Notes in this world would take it away. But no one would listen to me, no one would understand that the only way out was through my death. I would do it myself if I had the right supplies. I could break the mirror and use the shard to slit my throat. I could hang myself. I could jump from the roof. The possibilities were endless. But as long as I was being watched, I couldn't do a thing.

 _It's cute that you think I'll let you commit suicide,_ Kira chimed in unhelpfully. _I told you, I'm not going to let you slip away from me just yet._

And wasn't that a pleasant thought?

†††

Near was the next one to stand watch. Unlike Mello, he didn't watch me the entire time. Rather, he began fiddling with his finger puppets. He lay out the ones he had already created on the bed beside me. L, Mello, Matt, himself, and me. Then the task force. Then Sayu.

"Have you spoken to her since the party?" I asked, motioning to the Sayu doll.

"We have exchanged words over text," he said simply. "I find her company most enjoyable." He reached into his pocket and pulled out another puppet. My stomach flipped nervously as I realized it was me with red hair and eyes—Kira. Another blank puppet emerged from his pocket (where did he keep all of them, anyways?) and he began fashioning it to look similar to L. Red eyes, eyes that I now recognized as shinigami eyes, were added to the doll. It was Beyond Birthday. Near looked up at me, pausing his work momentarily. "Would you like to play a game of chess with me?"

"Ah… sure." An odd request. Near immediately reached under the bed and pulled out a case. I wondered briefly how he'd known its location, but before I had a chance to ask, he was unlatching the case and spreading the board out on the bed, dumping the pieces out on the floor carelessly. I stared quizzically.

"I like to use my own pieces," he explained, holding up a small bag he'd seemingly produced from nowhere. He opened it and began placing the pieces on the board.

"Really?" I asked with amusement, holding up a pawn that had a suit and brown hair sewn onto it. "You even decorated the chess pieces to look like the members of the task force?"

He smiled faintly. "I have a lot of time on my hands." He set up the pieces so that one side had Beyond, Near, Matt, and Mello as well as many pieces that appeared to be dressed as students. My side had L, Watari, the members of the task force, Sayu, and myself—along with what appeared to be a group of police officers.

"Why is Beyond on your side?" I challenged lightheartedly, a teasing smile spread across my face. "Don't tell me you think he's one of the good guys!"

Near copied my smile. "No. In this game, the successors and I will play on the side of evil. As for Beyond, I merely thought it would be best to have him on the side where you could kill him, even if it is only symbolic."

"I see. And the other pieces, the students?"

His expression darkened slightly. "They are some of the other kids from Wammy's House. He pointed one out. "This is A, the student that was originally supposed to success L. And these two are fourth and fifth ranked at the orphanage." He pointed out two figures, one with brown hair and one with black. "They are quite intelligent."

"I see. Who moves first?"

"Evil," Near responded. He reached out and moved one of the pawns forward.

"You're calling me good?" I questioned.

"Do you see that bishop?" he asked, pointing one out one of his pieces I hadn't noticed before. It had red hair and eyes—obviously Kira. "That is the enemy. And that one—" He jabbed a finger across the board to point at my king—the piece that was clearly supposed to be me. "That is good."

"That's sweet of you," I smiled. "Using this game to show me who the real enemy is."

"You needed clarification," Near said simply. "Now, it's your move. Are you going to play, or are you going to talk about the symbolic nature of the pieces?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I'll play." I reached out and moved one of my pawns forward. A few moves later I took out one of Near's pieces. He followed suit, and soon we were moving the pieces across the board with a vengeance, nearly tied as we eliminated many of the colorfully dressed pieces covering the board. I knocked Mello out; he took Soichiro. I took A, he took Matsuda. It didn't take long for us to come down to the last few pieces. On his side he had Matt, the fourth and fifth ranked students, Kira, Beyond, and himself. I had L (who just so happened to be the queen, to my amusement), Aizawa, Mogi, several pawns, and myself.

"I do believe the game is nearing completion," Near said. "We also appear to be nearly tied."

He was right. The game could go either way. I moved another piece. Then Near moved, and Beyond was wide open. He eyed me. "Take him out," he advised, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I shot him a glance that I hoped conveyed how irritated I was that he had deliberately sacrificed Beyond. But still, I used L to capture him, slamming the piece violently down on the side of the board. And if his hair was bumped slightly so that it was crooked, Near didn't say anything. Near moved again, and Mogi was gone. He was getting uncomfortably close to my king. I moved my rook—Aizawa—closer in an attempt to defend. But it appeared Near had been waiting for that, and so he sprung his trap and captured the rook. I growled in irritation as he moved Kira towards the king.

"Check."

I moved the king away. Near placed a knight in such a way that I had nowhere to retreat to but the corner. Damn it! How had I fallen for such an obvious ruse? The next turn I slid L across the board. "Check."

Near's eyes narrowed as he was forced to move his second rook back to protect against the queen. "Going on the offensive even though you're cornered?" he asked lightly.

"I've already been backed into a corner," I responded. "Unless I can use my queen to checkmate, I'm going to lose."

"True," he said. He moved a pawn forward, closing off the last escape. "Things aren't looking good for you. Check."

I moved the king into the very last space, the corner. I stood, cornered by Kira, Matt, and the fifth ranked student. Near used one finger to push Kira forward a space. "Checkmate." I snarled internally as he pushed Kira into my piece, toppling it. Even in the game Kira had won. I noticed L's piece standing barely a few spaces from the king. One more move and I could have had him. "I win." Near began carefully cleaning up the pieces and returning them to the bag.

"Just like in real life," I sighed. "Kira comes out on top."

"True," Near said. "But your defeat could have been avoided." He set some of the pieces back up. It appeared that he had returned us to the midway portion of the game. "You see, if you had moved here—" He pushed L in front of the king. "Then I wouldn't have been able to take your first knight, and then you could have used him to do this, and this…" He moved the pieces across the board at an alarming rate until his king was cornered. "If you had just made that one move differently, the whole outcome would have been different." He pushed Kira over with a finger. "Do you understand?"

I smiled sadly. "Yes. One move can turn the tides of war. However, the instant I chose not to move in that one specific way, the battle was already lost. How am I to know that a deciding move such as that hasn't already been made?"

"Even if you hadn't moved the queen, there were still several times when you could have done something to win."

"Yes, but at what point did victory for me become impossible? What move determined that my death was inevitable?"

Near had no answer to that. "I can't tell you if you've already doomed yourself to failure," he said. "But I know that you realized that you were going to lose long before it actually happened. But you didn't stop playing. Why?"

I blinked. "Why…? It just didn't occur to me. You don't just stop playing because you think you're going to lose. You still have to see it through to the end, even if death is inevitable."

He regarded me with a self-satisfied smile. "Exactly. I want you to remember this the next time you decide that fighting Kira is pointless."

That brought a smile to my face. He was clever… I could see why he was the first ranked successor.

†††

As much as I had enjoyed Near's company, it couldn't last forever. He left a few hours after the chess match, leaving me in a much less depressed state. The pain in my head had even lessened slightly, as if feeling happier had beaten down Kira just enough to make life bearable. I sat with my back to the headboard as Matt came in, finally able to think clearly for the first time that day. "Matt," I greeted with a smile. "I must thank you for the advice last night. Between you and Near, my spirits have been lifted at least a bit."

He smiled warmly at me. "Don't mention it. You needed cheering up. How are you?"

"Kira isn't pushing as hard," I said, almost cheerily. "The pain has died down considerably."

"That's good!" Matt seated himself in the chair beside the bed and kicked his feet up. I noticed that his goggles were down around his neck, and a cigarette was clenched between his teeth. Unlit, as usual. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm hungry, actually," I said. "Would you mind…?"

"I can't let you leave this room," he said. "But I'll bring you something. Hang on, I'll be right back." He got up, took a step towards the door, then paused. "I can't leave either. Fine, I'll call Watari!" He walked to the far wall and pressed a button. An intercom, probably. "Watari, would you bring up something for Light to eat?"

"At once."

Matt released the button and kicked back on the chair again. "What did Mello and Near say?"

"Mello told me to get my shit together, and Near played a game of chess with me."

"Let me guess," Matt sighed, "It was symbolic."

I chuckled. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"Oh, he's pulled that on pretty much everybody. It's not always a lesson, though. Sometimes he's just mad and wants to bash his opponent's face in. There was this one time, he was _pissed_ at Mello for dragging him into some ridiculous fight over the rankings…" The successor paused to laugh, a wide grin on his face as he thought of the past. "I think the chess board is still cracked—Near ended up using it to hit Mello over the head!"

I couldn't contain a laugh, imagining the white-haired boy standing menacingly over Mello, cracked chess board in hand. "I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of _that_."

"No one does," Matt responded, amused. "But putting that aside, is there anything you want to get off your chest before the almighty L comes in and interrogates you as to your emotional integrity?"

"I'm feeling more optimistic," I said lightly. "Kira has become a little more manageable. I'm not sure if he's backed off, or if I'm actually starting to gain the ability to hold him off, if only for a little while."

"Do you think he's taking a break to compose himself?" Matt questioned.

"No, that's not it. He has no reason to stop, not when he's so powerful, not when he's gaining so much ground. I have no idea what's happened." There was a small twinge in the back of my mind as I spoke. It didn't hurt the same way it had just a few hours ago— it had receded and become more pressure than pain. If felt like when you went from low to high altitude suddenly—that feeling you get in your ears, only deep within my brain.

Matt's hazel eyes were still locked on me, his careful gaze traveling up and down my form. "That pressure, that pain…he's just going to increase it slowly until your mind breaks, isn't he?"

"Yes… I think that's exactly what he's planning. He forces nightmares upon me, causes unbearable spikes in fear, and spends near every minute threatening me. I don't want to count the number of times he's told me what Beyond is going to do once he gets his hands on me again…"

Matt's eyes widened. "He won't turn you over to him again, will he? It's his body too, after all!"

"My pain means nothing to him," I murmured. "And as long as I am in the one in control, I am certain that Kira cannot feel my pain. He is a _monster,_ Matt. If he thinks he has something to gain from giving me back to Beyond as a chew toy, he'll do it."

Matt winced at the choice of words. "Even if that's the case, you should still have some time left to think of a solution before Kira gets to you. We'll be helping in every way we can, you know. I'm sure there's something we can do."

"Yeah," I agreed halfheartedly, hearing the door open as Watari brought in a tray of food. He set it on the bed beside me and left with a polite nod to Matt and me. I pulled the tray onto my lap and began to eat the offered food, which just so happened to be a rather delicious smelling stir-fry. When I'd finished with my meal I placed the tray on the bedside table, sipping from the glass of water I'd been left.

For a while after that, we fell into a comfortable silence. I reached for one of the books L had left me, and Matt returned to his game. The calm was only broken by Matt's occasional exclamation of irritation as he failed whatever level he was working at. But all good things had to come to an end, and before long Matt was lowering his Gameboy, getting to his feet and stretching, pulling his goggles back over his eyes. "It's time for me to go," he said sheepishly, clearly feeling guilty about leaving. "L will be coming up any minute now. I'm sure you'll have to endure countless hours of interrogation from him, so good luck!"

I was silent for a moment longer, debating whether or not to tell him what had been eating at my mind throughout the day. I hadn't told L or the other successors, but something about Matt… it made me want to tell him, to release the tension that had been building within me. "Matt… " I began slowly. "Before you go, can I tell you something and have you promise me that you won't repeat it to L?"

He blinked. "Sure. What is it?"

I took a deep breath. "I…I don't want to die."

He looked puzzled at my sudden seriousness. "Of course you don't. No one really _wants_ to die."

"I want to live," I went on, well aware that I was telling these things to someone I barely knew. "I desperately want to live. But I have to die, don't you see? Kira is too strong, and he's already gained control of a part of my mind. With every second that passes, I can feel his influence growing. I feel it in how my head throbs, in how that red sea expands with every moment I remain in that silvery world…"

"Red sea?" Matt echoed. "Silver world?"

I shook my head. "Forget it. It means nothing. What I'm trying to say is…I know how much it will hurt L when I inevitably become Kira once again. I know how heartbroken he will be once he realizes that he has to kill me. But it's the only way out. I have to die in order to atone, in order to destroy Kira once and for all. I'll be a sacrificial lamb, yes, but it will be worth it. It will be worth it because once I am dead, Kira will never be able to hurt anyone ever again."

The third ranked successor shook his head, and though his eyes were covered, I knew that they were swimming with pity. "You're wrong."

I blinked, surprised. "What?"

"You think that once you're dead, no one will ever be killed by a Death Note again? Do you think Kira is the only one that murders with it? That once you're dead, it will all end? Because you're wrong, Light. Even if you die, even if _Kira_ dies—that second Death Note still exists, and Beyond is still using it to this very moment. Your death isn't going to solve the problem. All it will do is incapacitate L to the point of uselessness. You know that, don't you? That if you die, he won't be able to continue functioning the way he once did?"

"He will learn to forget," I murmured. "And I'm no fool—I know that my death will not solve everything. But it will cut the problem in half. And for that, I will sacrifice myself without question. Even if in my heart, I desperately wish to be saved."

Matt's shoulders slumped slightly as he let out a deep sigh. "Still, the least you can do is stick around and try to catch Beyond. Think of it this way—if you just let yourself die before we catch him, then you'll have eliminated only half the problem. But if you catch him before Kira overwhelms you, and if you really must be killed, then when you die, both Kiras will be gone from this world forever. Then, at least for a while, the threat of the Death Note will no longer exist. You will have fully and completely paid off your debt to this world. So at least try to hang on until then, okay?"

I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that if he could get me to hold out until we caught Beyond, by that point we would have found a way to get rid of Kira without killing me. But it was useless, _so_ very useless. But I couldn't let Matt think he hadn't helped me at all, so I responded, "I will do that for you if you do something for me."

He frowned suspiciously. "What's that?"

"When… when I'm dead, I want you to keep an eye on L for me. You and the rest of the successors. I know how unstable he can get, and if you're watching over him… well, it'll reassure me that nothing is going to happen to him."

That brought a smile to his face, and all his previous suspicion vanished. "That I can do. But with any luck, I won't have to watch out for him."

"Why's that?"

"That's easy," he laughed. "Because you'll be doing it for me!"

"O-oh…" I stuttered, not quite sure how to react. He was so confident that we would find a way out.

Matt's phone rang suddenly. He answered it, saying, "Hey, L. What's up?" He listened for a few moments, an odd look on his face. Then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "That's not good. I don't like it… but I'll do it if you think it's absolutely necessary."

He hung up and looked at me. "Your father is coming to visit. He's been told that you're mentally unstable and completely incoherent. L has ordered me to restrain you so it appears we are keeping you here because you're a danger to yourself."

"You have to… restrain me?" I found myself dreading the idea. After Beyond, the idea of being unable to move was terrifying. I had been okay with the handcuffs the night before because I'd been able to move my feet, but this… I would be completely immobile. "If you have to, then… I guess you should do it." I lay back on the bed limply, forcing the tension to melt from my body.

Matt shook his head, a troubled look on his face. "I don't like this… but I suppose I have no choice." He retrieved two sets of handcuffs from the drawer. He bound my wrists to the headboard and cuffed my ankles tightly, winding the chain around the frame of the bed. Then he pulled out the leather straps, clearly intending to secure me further to the bed, and fear jolted through me.

"Not those!" I begged, mind flashing back to those horridly tight straps Beyond had used on me. "Please, anything but those!"

He froze, eyeing me, and seemed to understand. He put the straps down, nodding. "Very well. The chains are tight enough so that you cannot move anyways, so I guess there's no need for them." He instead reached into the drawer and pulled out a large, thick strip of cloth. "I'm going to have to gag you in case you try to say anything about your identity as Kira," he explained, approaching me with the cloth in one hand. "Open your mouth, please."

I didn't like it. But it failed to invoke the same fear in me that the leather straps did, seeing as Beyond had never used a gag. He'd wanted to hear me, after all. I opened my mouth, not protesting when the strap was pulled taut around my head and tied firmly in a knot. I couldn't close my mouth all the way—no matter how hard I tried, my lips were always just a few centimeters apart. It was far from comfortable.

Matt plucked something from the computer desk, holding it up. I recognized a large syringe, completely filled with clear liquid. L must have left it for whoever was watching me at the time. "I can sedate you using this if you don't want to face your father," he offered. "I could say that I was forced to put you under because you refused to sleep."

But… but if I slept, then I would be back in that silver world. If I slept, then Kira would just have all the more room to maneuver, to fight against me and claim more and more of my mind. But I wanted to desperately to avoid facing my father…

Matt slowly approached me and reached for my arm, turning it over so he could get at a vein. He looked down at me, asking, "Do you want me to sedate you?"

I nodded before I could register just what I was doing. I felt severely disturbed as I realized that the action hadn't felt like my own doing. It was as if someone else had forced me to nod, asking Matt to knock me out. That sinking feeling in my stomach made me realize that I knew who that someone else was.

I felt the prick of the needle, then the flow of liquid entering my bloodstream. Then, just as I heard the doors open, my world went dark.

†††

L walked into the room to see Matt throwing a syringe into the trash. Luckily Soichiro was still behind him, so he didn't see anything. Light was lying on the bed, clearly sedated. The gag that was tied around his head made L gnash his teeth in irritation. It was a necessary evil, he knew, but he didn't like it. "What happened?" L demanded, trying not to sound too alarmed as Soichiro entered the room. If Light had succumbed to Kira, then he would have whole other set of problems on his hands.

Matt shot the detective a calming look, trying to portray that everything was okay. When he spoke, it was in a tone so low that Soichiro couldn't hear. "It's nothing bad," he promised. "He thought it would be best if he didn't have to be near Soichiro when he's in this state of mind."

So he hadn't given in… that was good. L felt the tension melt from his shoulders. "I see. Thank you, Matt. How was he today?"

"Looking a bit better," he said, voice rising form a whisper so Soichiro couldn't hear. "Apparently he was coherent long enough to play a game with Near today."

"Chess?" L questioned with a small smile.

"You guessed it."

"Symbolic?"

"Undoubtedly."

Soichiro had slipped into the chair beside the bed, taking his son's limp hand in his. He frowned, clearly irritated when he spotted the handcuffs keeping him in place, brow furrowing even further when he spotted the gag. "I want you to be honest, L," he rasped in a low tone. "Does my son have a chance at recovering from this? Is he going to be the same?"

L paused. "The probability that he will recover is quite high," he lied. "However, even if Light overcomes this trauma, I cannot say that he will be the same. He will return to a very similar version of himself, but I do not think he will ever be the Light Yagami we knew before he was taken prisoner." _That is painfully close to the truth,_ L thought uncomfortably. _Even if we can find a way to get rid of Kira, he'll never be quite the same._

Soichiro didn't seem pleased with that. "I see… Will you allow me to stay with my son for a while longer?"

L looked up at Matt, silently asking him how long it would be until the sedative wore off. He held up a three and a zero using his fingers. Thirty minutes.

"You can stay for exactly half an hour," L said. "But then you will need to return to work. I want everyone working as hard as possible to catch Beyond and… and Kira."

Soichiro nodded gruffly, though he didn't appear contented. He settled down, pulling his chair even closer to the bed, and waited to see if his son would awaken.

Of course, he didn't.

†††

Light showed the first signs of waking a few minutes after Soichiro left. L sat on the bed beside him as he slowly began twitching in his sleep. His fists clenched suddenly, and his previously calm expression vanished, replaced by a look that could only be described as pure and utter panic. Concerned, L immediately soothed his hands over his lover's chest, shaking him lightly.

"Light…" he urged softly. "Light, wake up now, please…"

The teen turned onto his side, his back now to L. He drew his knees up to his chest, curling in on himself as his erratic movements twisted the blankets further around his form. A sheen of sweat had gathered on his skin, and a low, distressed whine was building in his throat. "No…" he muttered, fingers twisting in the comforter as if it were attacking him. "Stop…don't make me run anymore…"

L frowned. Make him run? _It must be a nightmare,_ he thought. _Anyone would have nightmare after going through what he's been forced to endure over the past few weeks._ "Come on," he murmured, shaking the teen slightly harder. "It's a nightmare, Light. You need to wake up."

He shook his head, murmuring, "Get away…"

" _Light._ " L rolled the teen over, taking his face between his hands and rubbing circles beneath his eyes.

For a moment later he remained within the clutches of the nightmare. But then, with a shuddering gasp, he shot up, nearly smashing his forehead into L's. His eyes remained locked on the ceiling, his chest heaving as he no doubt replayed the events of the nightmare. Lowering his gaze, he brought his hands up in front of his face, turning them over as if to make sure they were really there. "Not silver…" he breathed in relief, and the words made L frown. Not silver? What was that supposed to mean? Light's eyes finally found L, and a small, weary smile spread across his face. "L," he greeted shakily. "It's good to see you…"

Frowning deeply, L asked, "What were you dreaming about?"

A flash of alarm darted through Light's eyes, increasing L's curiosity. He responded hastily, "Oh, nothing serious. I've been having a lot of nightmares lately, that's all. I guess it's just my mind's way of dealing with what Beyond did to me."

L's eyes narrowed. "You said you were running. What was happening to you? And what did you mean by "not silver?"

Light looked away determinedly, shaking his head. "I told you, L, it's nothing to be concerned about. Please, drop it."

The detective's frown deepened. He opened his mouth to inquire further, but Light cut him off with a carefully timed question.

"So, how are things going?"

L hesitated. _I supposed I'll just have to bring it up again later,_ he decided. If it was something Light didn't want to talk about, then he should give him some space rather than imposing upon him. "Nothing has occurred in the case, if that's what you're occurring to," he responded slowly.

"Actually I was just asking about your day," Light said with a smile that almost, _almost_ covered the pain lingering in his eyes. "How are you?"

"How am _I?_ " he asked, clearly stunned. " _I_ am fine! It's you I'm worried about! When Mello and Near came back to the investigation room, they reported signs of extreme pain that no medicine could lift, described as pressure building in the back of the head! Why didn't you tell me your head was hurting this badly?"

He shrugged. "Even if I'd told you, it's not like you could have done anything. This is something you can't control, L. Not even _I_ can control it."

L gritted his teeth. It was clear he was angry, but he had nothing he could direct his frustrations at. "You still should have told me."

"Fine," Light said coolly. "The next time my skull decides to split open I'll inform you—but you won't be able to do anything about it."

"Does it hurt now?"

He shrugged once again. "It's been hurting ever since I got my memories back, though today has been especially bad. And it's not like Kira is something you can just push away. No matter what I do, he's commenting on it, increasing the pressure. It's beginning to drive me insane."

"And what about your shinigami? If you now own a Death Note, then one should be showing up, right?"

Light shook his head slowly. "No god of death has shown their face to me yet. I believe that I have Rem's notebook, but I have yet to see her nor Ryuk, so I can't be sure. However, I am quite certain that I do not possess Ryuk's notebook. If I did, then I believe he would have shown himself to me by now. He isn't the type to hide out while all sorts of interesting things are going on, after all." He spoke the words venomously, as if the taste they left in his mouth was foul and unpleasant.

"Yes, that seems likely," L decided. He pulled Light up into a sitting position, leaning in to kiss him briefly. "Come on, we need to shower. Then you can go back to bed, if you want."

He shuffled his feet. "Actually, I was hoping you could read out of that book for me…"

"You mean… the one you started reading before you fell ill?" The book was still sitting on L's desk with a slip of paper marking where Light had become too sick to read.

"Yeah, that one. I like it, and I didn't get a chance to finish it. So if you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to read to me."

L couldn't contain his smile. "Of course. I have a few other books I'd like to leave with you for tomorrow as well. I think you'll enjoy them."

Light nodded. Several minutes later they had showered, changed into clean clothing, and slipped into bed to read. Light curled himself around L like a child as he opened the book, beginning to read where he'd left off. He'd barely made it five pages before Mello entered the room and settled into the chair beside the bed. Not long after that, L watched Light drift off into an uneasy sleep, his features twisting painfully as he faded away. The detective marked the place in his book and set it on the bedside table, his gaze never leaving the sleeping teen. When he was sure he wasn't going to wake back up, L gently pulled Light's head into his lap, threading his fingers through auburn hair. He wasn't going to sleep tonight, so he wasn't sure Mello's presence was strictly necessary—but still, he didn't send him away. It would be good, he thought, to have some waking company. L's eyes left Light's sleeping form, locating the second ranked successor as he lounged back in the computer chair beside the bed.

"Mello," he said softly, mindful of Light's light slumber. "What do you think about this whole thing? How long do you think we can keep this up before the task force becomes suspicious or Kira wins? How long until Beyond strikes again?"

The blonde shrugged. "The task force will be easy to fool. And Beyond won't exactly be eager to attack so soon after being injured. You did quite a number on his hand, after all. I doubt it'll be usable for a while. We should have at least a little while to track him down before he tries something. As for the battle Light is waging against Kira, I don't think it looks good. I mean, while I was watching him he was in so much pain he couldn't even understand me for part of the time. I hate to say it, but I think we might be fighting a losing battle."

L turned his gaze back on Light. "Light told me that it was possible to win using his will as a weapon."

" _Possible_ doesn't mean _likely_ ," Mello shot back. "Look, L, I already told you that if you want to attempt to find a way out without killing the kid, I'm in. But I don't think it's likely, and I don't think it's wise. The truth is, it's smarter to kill him. But we're not going to do that, not until every last lead is extinguished. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," L agreed softly. "That's right."

Mello slouched down in the office chair, stifling a yawn. "If you're going to do this, then you can't second guess yourself. You have to dive in head first, and not back out until you're _certain_ you've lost. And above all else, you can't let Light know that you feel even the slightest doubt. He's already convinced himself he's going to lose, so if he finds out that even _you're_ doubting him, then he'll go off the deep end. So, just… keep it together, got it? Don't be the one that pushes him over the edge."

L dipped his head in acknowledgement, murmuring, "I will not. Thank you, Mello." He yawned suddenly, and realized that he was actually quite tired. Strange…he'd been feeling depleted of energy disturbingly often lately. He wasn't sure he liked the change. Shrugging it off, he leaned back against the headboard, legs splayed out in front of him, and settled in to wait out the night.

†††

When my eyes opened, the first thing I saw was Matt passed out asleep in the chair—he must have fallen asleep during his shift. I gave a low chuckle as I observed his sleeping form. L was pressed into my back as always, his forehead leaning heavily in between my shoulder blades. He was dead asleep for the second night in a row. I wondered if his sudden decrease in energy was due to how much strength he was spending worrying about me.

"Light Yagami."

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a familiar voice resonate from the center of the room. Looking up, I saw the familiar form of the shinigami Rem, towering over the bed like a giant. So, then… I'd been right. I was the owner of her notebook. "Rem," I greeted, my heart still pounding brutally. I took care to keep my voice down so I didn't wake either of the two sleeping geniuses. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up. I didn't see you at all while I was in that awful warehouse."

She raised her chin, glaring down at me with disdain. "I am here now. I notice that you are no longer using the Death Note, and you have not spoken to Misa in weeks. Do you have an explanation for such actions?"

Misa hadn't exactly been at the forefront of my mind for the past few days, especially not after her rather violent reaction to my relationship with L at the party. But Rem had been following Higuchi, and thus had no way of knowing what had transpired between us. "I'm not allowed to leave HQ, and she can't enter," I said slowly. "And besides that, we got into a bit of a fight. She hasn't messaged me since then—at least, not that I know of." I didn't put it past L to continue deleting Misa's messages while I slept. "Look, I don't know how much you've put together for yourself, but a lot of things have happened these past few weeks."

"I was present for all of Beyond Birthday's ranting. Consequently I have gathered that you were ill, and that he kidnapped you under the assumption that you would help him kill L once you regained your memories. Now you are being held here because L knows you are Kira, and refuses to kill you. Judging by the way he is currently wrapped around you, I am led to believe that he has developed feelings for you, and is thus unwilling to end your miserable life."

"You're mostly right," I said. "I was ill, and captured by Beyond. He returned my memories, and since I'd already fallen for L—well, actually, it's a long story. Suffice it to say that Kira has become his own personality within me."

The shinigami cocked her head to one side. "That would explain why you are acting so civil, and why you were so swift to reject Beyond. Am I to believe that all your actions while I knew you were carried out by Kira? Is this my first time meeting Light Yagami?"

I shook my head with a low chuckle. "No, you met him as a part of Kira. Now I've been separated from him, so you're speaking to the original. And believe it or not, the original actually has some good in him."

Her expression didn't change. "That is good. However, if you have truly split in two, then I severely doubt that Kira will just let you remain in control. You are at war with yourself, are you not?"

"I am." Now that I was awake, the throbbing in my head was slowly building. I was struck by the realization that even since the beginning of this day alone, the pain had grown much greater. And that silvery world… more and more of it was being splashed in red. "I'm losing," I admitted softly. "I don't suppose there's anything you can do about that?"

Rem shook her head. "I cannot do anything to help you. The only thing you can do is give up ownership or destroy the notebook. And if you haven't already done that, then something must be stopping you."

" _He_ won't let me," I explained. "I've tried multiple times to force myself to say the words, but they won't come. I've also been forbidden from committing suicide, otherwise I would have attempted that by now. I can't even tell L to burn the notebook, and he's so shaken up by all of this that he hasn't thought of it yet. Or maybe he has, and he's worried that destroying the notebook will trap me with Kira forever—a foolish notion, of course. Can't you just take the notebook back and be done with it?"

Rem shook her head statically. "No, I cannot. Merely knowing that you want to give up the Death Note is not enough—you have to speak the words, or at least offer some outward sign of your desire to be rid of it. And if Kira refuses to let you do even that, then there is nothing that I can do. I am sorry."

 _Then could you kill me?_ I thought, longing to speak the words. But as I parted my lips to make the request, I felt a vice-like hold close over my vocal cords. A low growl resonated in my ears, and I knew it was Kira's way of warning me against what I was trying to do.

 _Remember, Light,_ he snarled. _Behave yourself._

Rem seemed to understand what I was thinking. "I could kill you, you know," she said, hand going to her notebook. "I press pen to paper and stop this from going any further. Is that what you want?"

I desperately attempted to nod, or say something to tell her to kill me. For just a moment I thought Kira was going to let me do it—my lips parted, and mercifully, my voice continued to function. But that relief I felt to be able to speak freely was soon vanquished as I realized that though I was the one speaking, the words were not mine.

"No," I found myself saying, lips moving robotically. "I do not want you to kill me. L thinks he can find a way to remove Kira from my mind, and until he is convinced there is no other way, I will not wish for death."

A jolt of horror shot through me. _No!_ I wanted to scream. _No, no, that's not what I wanted to say! I need to die, please kill me before anything happens!_

 _Too bad,_ Kira purred in my ear. _Looks like I have more control than you thought, my Light._

Rem's pen was hovering above her notebook. "I would kill you, whether you wanted me to or not. However, I know that your death would bring nothing but suffering for Misa. So I will allow you to live, even though you must wish dearly to die."

I heard Kira give a satisfied chuckle. _She gets it!_

"I don't really want to die," I murmured, and _that,_ at least, was the truth. "I just want to get rid of Kira. If L kills me, then that _murderer_ will die too. It just seems like the honorable way to go."

She nodded. "I agree. Not only would you pay for your crimes, but you would destroy one of the two great evils that lurks within this world."

"Yes, but it's just not going to happen right now." I closed my eyes. _If I could just overpower him for one second… one moment is all I would need to do it. All I would have to do is regain enough control to pull the trigger._

Rem nodded solemnly. "You are a honorable human being, Light Yagami. I hope you win this battle against the monster that possesses you, even if I can do nothing to assist you."

I smiled, feeling a rather painful twinge in the back of my head. "Rem, I think you should stay out of the way until either Kira or I win this battle. Leave and go to Misa's place. I know that she doesn't have her memories, but you should still watch over her. It would bring me no surprise if Beyond targets her, if not just gain some leverage over the task force." In truth, I doubted very much that Beyond would try to harm Misa. But it was better safe than sorry, and I didn't want Rem to be around to possibly help Kira if he gained control. It was better this way.

Rem offered me what was supposed to be a smile. "Very well, Yagami. I will watch over Misa. I wish you good luck." She floated forward, clearly intending to exit via the wall beside the bed—but the instant she came within a foot of me, her single visible eye shot down to lock onto my face and she froze, a horrified expression on her face. It was a rather strange look on her, a being that didn't normally show so much as a flicker of emotion.

"Rem?" I asked softly, wincing as I felt L shifting slightly against me. I hoped he wasn't about to wake up. "What is it?"

She leaned down, staring me fiercely in the eyes. "You have been talking to another shinigami," she said.

I frowned, immediately thinking of the child shinigami who had been making regular appearances in my dreams—though, I thought, I hadn't seen him more than once after that first incident in that silvery world. "Yes," I told her. "Is that a problem?"

Her single yellow eye widened. "That shinigami… the _child_ …he has a very specific presence, a very _identifiable_ scent, if you will. You must tell me what has he said to you at once!"

I frowned, thinking back to our few conversations. "He said that he was interested in me, and he didn't want me to die just yet. He was the one who explained the war between Kira and myself, and helped me when I was in the hospital."

"Is that all? Is there anything else?" she demanded.

"No, no! That's it, really! He didn't say anything noteworthy, really..." The intensity of her gaze was scaring me. "Rem, what's wrong?"

"That shinigami," she hissed, "is _dangerous,_ Light Yagami. He is _evil._ "

 _Evil?_ "But he's done nothing but help me!" I protested. "Listen, Rem, when I didn't understand what was happening to me, he brought me to the edge of the red sea—which is the way Kira's been taking hold of my mind—and let me see what was happening! He explained everything to me! And when Kira grabbed onto me and began taking control, he pulled me away, saving me! There's just no way he's evil, no way he's trying to hurt me!"

" _Light,_ " the shinigami insisted. "If he wants so badly to keep you alive, then why did he let Kira touch you in the first place?"

"Well, he—" I broke off. Why _had_ he let Kira touch me? He'd seen the red hand emerging from the water, had had plenty of time to intercept. But he'd done nothing but sit back and watch.

"If he was really just trying to help you understand what Kira was doing, he could have shown you from a distance. But he led you to the edge of the water and let Kira touch you, thus allowing him to gain just the slightest bit of control. Don't you think that's a bit strange for someone who claims to be your guardian?"

I fell silent. Actually, yes. I hadn't questioned it at the time, but now it seemed that Rem was right. Letting me near the water's edge had been foolish, if the child was indeed trying to keep me safe. He would have been better to immediately steer me in the other direction. But if he really wanted to bring me harm as Rem suggested, then why hadn't he just killed me while I was in the hospital, or let Kira consume me then and there? What was his motive? "Rem," I said slowly. "Who is he? Who is the child?"

"I am forbidden to speak his name," she responded begrudgingly. "In fact, I know not if he even possesses such a thing as a name. But I warn you—if you see him again, do not speak to him. You must turn and run, and _do not_ trust him. He brings nothing but trouble, and he cares not for the lives of humans, no matter what he says. As I stated, he is _evil._ I do not know why he has chosen to help you, but be assured that it is not indeed help that he offers; it is just his twisted way of meeting his own agenda. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes," I stuttered, shocked nearly into silence by her harsh words. "I understand."

Her expression softened minutely as she drew away. "I know not what you have gotten yourself into, Light Yagami. Between Kira and the child shinigami, you will know no end of pain. But still, I wish you luck. I do not want to see you die, despite our… _rocky_ history. Not just for your sake, but for Misa's, and for the future of this world." She fluttered her wings as she drifted towards the wall, clearly about to leave.

"Wait!" I hissed, drawing her attention. When she turned back, fixing me with that yellowed gaze, I spoke again in a low, intense tone. "Rem…if the user of the Death Note fails to consecutively write names within thirteen days of each other, then the user will die. If a person makes this notebook unusable by tearing it up or burning it, all the humans who have touched the Death Note will die."

Rem's expression remained unchanged. "The fake rules written in the Death Note I gave to Higuchi. What of them?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "If I indeed own your notebook currently, then those falsified rules should be written alongside the originals. And yet L has made no mention of those two rules, those two game changing dictations. It's possible that he's simply trying to spare me the pain of being forced to discuss the notebook and its many rules, and has decided to keep all discussion about it between him and his successors. Or less likely, that he's already deduced that the rules are fake. But it is very unlike him to let something like that go without making some mention of it to me. After all, I'm the only one he has access to who can accurately convey all the technicalities of the Death Note. And so I have calculated that it is more likely that those rules are simply not written in the notebook at all. L has not shown me the notebook up close for obvious reasons, but this seems to be the only logical solution. But those rules _were_ in the Death Note. I saw them with my own two eyes. And the notebook L now holds is the same one that I had Ryuk write the rules in. So why… why are the rules gone? _Are_ they gone? Is it possible to erase rules from the notebook?"

Rem's one visible eye narrowed. "Where is the notebook?"

I hesitated, thinking back to what L had told me about its location. "He kept it in this room for all the time I was unconscious, but I believe he told me that he'd moved it to a vault in the armory. It's completely secure there, locked up with no way to get to it unless you're Watari or L himself."

Rem nodded shortly, then disappeared through the floor. For a few stomach-turning minutes I was alone save for L and Matt—but then, just as swiftly and quietly as she'd left, Rem appeared before me once more, a grim look on her face.

"The rules are gone," she said simply. "The two fake rules have been completely erased."

"What?" I gasped. "Is it the same notebook? Is that even possible?"

"It is the same notebook," the shinigami assured me, clearly troubled. "And I see no reason that rules cannot be erased from the Death Note. However, I was not the one that did such a thing—and I feel quite confident in saying that Ryuk had no hand in this."

"So who was it?" I demanded. "Who erased the rules?"

Rem shuddered visibly. "The notebook reeked of the child shinigami."

My heart fell to my stomach. The child shinigami, the one that Rem believed was so evil… he had done this? Why? And how? "Why…?" I asked finally. "Why would he do something like this?"

"I do not know what purpose this serves," Rem responded darkly. "That shinigami is meddling in things that do not concern him."

"Maybe…" I murmured. I kept turning it over and over in my head, trying to figure out what the child shinigami had to gain from erasing those rules. But I kept coming up blank. Why had he done it? Briefly I resolved to ask him the next time I saw him—but then I remembered Rem's warning, and immediately doubted the intelligence behind the decision to speak to him again.

Rem spoke again. "Light Yagami, take heed. The child shinigami is a dangerous creature, and make no mistake—his doing this had a purpose. And whatever it is, it is not beneficial to you."

I nodded slowly. "You have my thanks, Rem. I will keep your warning in mind the next time I come across the child. But for now, I will perform my duty of keeping Kira at bay—and you too must perform your duty, your duty of keeping Misa safe."

"Very well. If that is what you wish, then I will be more than glad to protect Misa from any harm that may come to her. Farewell, Light Yagami. I wish you luck." Rem dipped her head to me almost respectfully, backing up towards the far wall. She paused then, and shot me one last mourning look. And then she was gone, leaving me in silence to ponder her foreboding words. I turned my gaze listlessly to the area before me. They came to rest on Matt, who was still slumped over in the chair, and knew inherently that I would be unable to sleep. Rem's words would keep me up possibly for the next several nights.

 _Who is right?_ I thought, closing my eyes without finding comfort in the action. _Is the child shinigami really all that dangerous? Why did he let Kira touch me? Who is he? Why would he erase the falsified rules in the Death Note? And why is Rem so weary of him?_ Too many questions and not enough answers. How long would be, I wondered, until I retrieved those hidden answers? _Would_ I retrieve them? Would I ever get the chance to unveil all the mysteries of this case, which only seemed to grow more and more twisted, more and more complex?

I knew not the answers to my endless questions. All I could do was stare, be it at the wall or the back of my eyelids, and wait for morning to come.

 **Hmm, who is the mysterious shinigami, I wonder? I bet several of you have already figured it out… Also, Beyond may have disappeared for the moment, but he'll be back soon, rest assured.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and be sure to drop me a review if you did! It's always nice to hear from readers :)**


	13. Sunset

**Welcome to chapter thirteen! I don't actually have a whole lot to say about this one, other than the fact that this is the last chapter that focuses heavily on the silver world. After this, not many scenes will be taking place there. And to offer warning in advance, the story will pick up again after this chapter.**

 **Thanks if you left a review on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one!**

 **Chapter 13: Sunset**

Kira lay back on the forest floor, arms crossed beneath his head as a makeshift pillow. The world around him was gloriously red, a shade of scarlet so violent that one would believe that it was actually bathed in thick, beautifully grotesque blood. Everything here was perfect. The grass, the trees, the flowers, the sky itself… all perfect, all _flawless._ How could anyone think it was anything less than pure? How could _Light,_ that fool, think that the red sea was corrupt? How could he not understand that this red, this _perfection,_ was his natural state of being? How could he resist it?

A the soft sound of water rising and falling met Kira's ears, and he grinned as he turned his head towards the gentle noise. The edge of the water was barely ten feet away, lapping at the silver of Light's mind. With every gentle swish, the water advanced further and further. Over just the past few days, Kira had made considerable progress in turning that silvery world into a scarlet wasteland. He wasn't sure just how large Light's mind really was, even though he'd inhabited it for so long, but he had a feeling that he'd already covered a good portion of it in that beautiful red color. And the process was only increasing in speed with every hour that ticked by. In just a few minutes, Kira knew that the edge of the water would have covered countless yards. And soon, the place in which he lay would be completely submerged. As it was, the ground was already completely waterlogged, soaking through his clothing and slowly creeping up his sides. In a few minutes, he'd be completely covered in the stuff. Kira let out a soft sigh, stretching his arms above his head before slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. He leaned on one arm and raised the other skyward, observing the way his scarlet fingers so beautifully matched the sky. He kept his legs splayed out in front of him, moving his feet back and forth carelessly. Ripples ran out through the water with every move he made, moving hypnotically, entrancingly. The ripples, Kira reflected, were what had captivated Light long enough for him to reach out and touch him, thus starting the ever-shortening process of corrupting him.

The water was becoming uncomfortably high now. Sighing, Kira lazily pushed himself to his feet and began splashing through the stuff, heading for the silver land not far beyond. It was a shame… as long as Light was awake, he had no physical form in this world for Kira to consume. But that was no matter—he could still continue consuming pieces of his host's mind, bit by bit, so he had to run further and further every night to escape him. Kira had reached the edge of the water. For a long moment he just stared out into the silver that rested just beyond, allowing a vague sense of disgust to wash over him. The _purity_ of that silver was disgusting. Oh, how Kira wanted to defile it, to _destroy_ all those damned _morals_ Light had built up in his absence. Smirking, he took a step over that red, watery line, stepping onto the silvery grass. He walked forward slowly, reveling in the way his shoes left behind large splotches of crimson with every step he took. He reached out one hand, flicking scarlet water from his fingers and laughing as he saw the way it splattered against the silver. His other hand shot out and placed a handprint of red across one of the oak trees nearest to him, eyes following with amusement as the red began to spread out over the tree like a progressing disease. The rotting wood creaked unsteadily under the weight of the still-silver branches, and a heartbeat later the thing was splintering at the trunk and falling with a massive splash into the red sea, which had already crept up to its base. Kira splashed on, repeating the action with the next tree, then the next. It was so _satisfying,_ watching Light's mind fall apart.

One of the larger oak trees came crashing to the ground, and Kira felt Light's whole mind tremble in pain. Ah, yes… the headaches. Those were caused by him, admittedly. With every tree, every flower, every blade of grass that was painted red, that headache grew worse and worse. Before long, Kira knew, it would be unbearable.

"You're moving fast, I see."

Kira turned slowly, casually, and spotted the owner of that voice sitting atop one of the lower branches of a silver tree. "Shinigami," he greeted coolly. "Are you so lacking in other things to do that you remain here constantly?"

"As I told Light, I have taken a particular interest in the development of this matter."

Kira sighed, "Yes, yes, I heard. I _also_ heard that you erased my fake rules from the notebook. Now, why would you do something like that? What did you have to gain?"

The child raised a brow. "You pride yourself on your intelligence, do you not? If you can't even figure something so simple as that out for yourself, then I am entirely disinclined to tell you."

The scarlet being let out a low snarl. "If you're not here to do anything useful, then leave." He continued his slow advance, felling trees as he moved. Above him, the sky was rumbling, the clouds darkening as if a storm was spreading across it. "You're not on Light's side, so why are you even here?"

"You don't think I'm on his side?" the child asked, clearly surprised.

"If you were, you wouldn't have let me touch him. You would have steered him in the opposite direction as fast as you could. So no, I feel safe in saying that you are not on his side, no matter how much you want him to believe that you are. But you are also not allied with _me_. So whose side are you on, anyways?"

The child dropped from his tree branch, feet striking the silver ground that was swiftly becoming not so silver. He brushed off his barely dirty clothing, finally responding, "It's none of your business whose side I'm on."

"That's good," Kira said sarcastically. "At least, I'm glad you're not on Light's side. Because let's be honest here…" He swept a hand out, motioning to the red sea. "He's _losing._ You told him that he could fight me using his will, but it didn't work. Did you really think that it would? Or were you _lying,_ as shinigami are so inclined to do?"

The child turned his face skywards. "You don't need to know such things."

Kira shouldered his way past the child, the sea at his heels. "Your feet are getting wet," he warned mockingly. "Do you want to be corrupted along with Light?"

"I am in no danger from you." As if in emphasis, the child raised one foot from the scarlet water, displaying its orangey hue.

A strong tremor passed through the landscape, and Kira couldn't help but grin as he felt the amount of pain Light was in. His poor head was growing worse and worse. "Poor, poor Light," he sighed. He kept moving, not looking back at the child shinigami, who hadn't moved an inch. The water was climbing steadily up his form—he was already up to his knees in the stuff. "It won't be long," he shot over his shoulder. "I'd advise you to get out of here now, before everything comes apart at the seams." He waited for a response, but none came. Frowning, he turned to face the shinigami. But… he wasn't there. The child was gone, as if he'd dissolved into the water. _The bastard…_ Kira thought bitterly. _I wonder where he went._

No matter. Kira continued forward, splashing and kicking water up further onto the silvery grass. He ground his heels into the watery ground, grinning as he felt Light's pained response. "Enjoy it while you can," he shot up at the sky, though he didn't allow Light to hear him. "You have no idea what's going to happen to you, my Light." Everything was planned out perfectly. Once Light succumbed, there would be no other obstacles in his way. The only possible hitch in the plan, Kira knew, lay with L. Clever, insightful L. Kira admired him, truly. But he was too smart for his own good. So smart, in fact, that he was the only person that he was even remotely concerned about. If his plan was going to fail, it was going to be because of L.

 _Maybe not,_ he thought. _If I'm lucky, he'll be too shaken up when he realizes that his precious Light is gone, and won't be able to act. Maybe, just maybe, the time he spends in mourning will give me the time I need to make sure he doesn't become a problem. It's a shame that Light send Rem away… I could have used her to speed things up. Perhaps I could have had her bring me my Death Note._

A sudden rumble paired with the rushing of water around his feet cut off Kira's train of thought. He frowned, peering out through Light's eyes to see what was going on. The teen was wide awake despite the late hour, turned on his side to face L as his eyes raked his sleeping form. One hand was resting over the detective's waist, his thumb lightly rubbing over the flesh exposed by his slightly raised shirt. The other was raised to L's cheek, his fingers tracing over pale flesh. _You really love him, don't you, Light?_ Kira thought, still refusing to let the teen hear him. _It's going to hurt you so terribly when I kill him._ Kira felt remorse, remorse so strong that it was almost painful, radiating from Light's mind with a vengeance. _You poor thing…_ Kira chuckled darkly. The pure agony Light was in… it almost made him feel bad. _Almost._

With a small smile, Kira continued to move forward, waiting for the moment when Light's mind became completely engulfed in red.

He had a feeling it wouldn't be long.

†††

When I opened my eyes, the world was silver. _Oh no…_ I thought. _I fell asleep! I didn't want to fall asleep; Kira will be after me any minute!_ I lurched to my feet unsteadily, knowing that I wouldn't have long before that water found me. It had been three nights since L had rescued me—at least, three nights that I was conscious for—and each time I fell asleep, without fail, I was forced to run from the water. I knew I couldn't run forever—every night it grew harder and harder to force my legs to move, harder and harder to draw breath. I felt as if a great weight were settling in my lungs, as if they were filling with sand, or some sort of ghastly fluid. I assumed it was yet another sign of Kira's impending takeover, like the piercing headache I had during waking hours. And that _headache…_

It grew worse and worse with every passing minute, and it left me feeling as if someone had taken a sledge hammer to the back of my skull. All attempts to ease the pain with medicine failed. The only comfort I found was in this silver world, and even that was ruined so long as Kira kept attempting to consume what remained of my mind.

"You fell asleep," a voice whispered in my ear, a voice I was all too familiar with.

I whirled around immediately, backing up the instant my eyes fell upon the scarlet form of Kira. He hadn't shown himself to me since that first night in this silvery world—rather, he had chosen to sit back and force me to endure his ranting without allowing me to locate his physical form. "Kira!" I spat out, still retreating a step at a time. I didn't dare turn my back to him, but I had to get away quickly before he had a chance to touch me again.

"You've let the water get too close," Kira went on, matching me step for step. "That's _dangerous_ , you know. You could slip and fall in if you're not careful."

My eyes found the space behind him, and I saw with horror that the sea was directly behind him. I hadn't been this close since he'd touched me the first time. It was still rippling and churning, drawing me in despite myself. For just a moment my legs froze, and I found myself unable to move. A heartbeat later I shook myself out of it, nearly stumbling in my haste to get away.

"It's hypnotic, isn't it?" Kira whispered. " _Enthralling_. Don't you just want to let it take you away? You wouldn't have to deal with the headaches any more, Light. You wouldn't have to watch your friends suffer over _your_ suffering."

"You lie," I snarled. "You intend to kill them as I watch."

The monster shrugged. "So what if I do? They're criminals, and they deserve the death I will bring them." He raised a hand, flicking his fingers outward, and red splattered the ground inches from my feet. "Careful," he warned mockingly. "You're about three seconds from falling in, you know."

I sped up my pace, glancing over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't going to hit anything. If I tripped over something so simple as a fallen branch, it would be over. I would be consumed.

Kira seemed to realize my growing fear. He grinned toothily, purring, "Afraid to die, Light? No, that's not it—you'd embrace death gladly if I offered it to you, for you believe it is the only way to rid yourself of me. So it is not your own death you fear, but those of the people around you." He lurched forward a few more steps, and I realized he was uncomfortably close. "It will hurt you so terribly when I kill L," he sighed. "I think I'll forgo the Death Note and slaughter him with my bare hands, just to watch you _squirm._ "

The idea was repulsive. "Then what separates you from a common murderer using a knife on their victim?" I questioned.

He raised a brow. "What sets us apart? What sets us apart is that I am right, and they are wrong."

"Wouldn't a criminal think the same thing?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

I yelped suddenly as my back struck, the trunk of one of the oak trees. I was so stunned that for just a moment, I didn't move, stricken by the sight of the red sea moving so close to my feet.

One moment was all Kira needed.

He was suddenly terrifyingly close, a nasty leer on his face. "Oh, Light," he sighed. "You shouldn't have done that." His hand shot out. And in a moment that was both too swift and too slow, he sealed his palm to my chest.

In a single heartbeat I had smashed the heel of my shoe into his stomach, forcing him back into the red water with a splash. But the damage was already done. Without stopping to assess said damage, I turned and ran as fast as I could, crashing through undergrowth and dodging low hanging tree branches. It wasn't until what felt like forever that I finally slowed, throwing a glance behind me. The red water was still visible, but I had a few minutes before it would reach me, I noted with relief. Which was good, because my chest was heaving terribly, and my legs felt like jelly. I was exhausted.

It was then that I raked my eyes down my own form and saw what Kira had done. A soft gasp was torn from my lips as I saw the horrible patch of red staining my chest, slowly creeping further and further across my form. _Is it going to stop?_ I thought desperately. _Or is it just going to keep going until I'm completely covered?_ Clearly the answer was the latter, for just moments later the red stopped expanding. It now covered most of my chest, a bit of the stuff streaking down my stomach. My eyes flickered to my wrist, looking for the hundredth time at the damage Kira had inflicted the first time I saw him. The red covered my entire wrist and most of my hand. I realized with horror that if Kira had been able to do so much from just a small splotch of red, I had no idea what he would be capable of now that he'd covered most of my chest in the scarlet substance.

 _It… it's over…_ I thought desperately. _I couldn't fight him in the first place, but now it's hopeless…_

"Maybe not," A voice murmured.

I whirled around, expecting to find Kira right behind me, ready to finish the job—but I saw nobody. "Shinigami?" I called out, certain that it was his voice I'd heard.

"There is always a way out, for those clever enough to find it," that voice murmured again. "You are no exception."

I looked all around me, but I couldn't find the shinigami, and that voice didn't sound again. Shame… I'd wanted to ask him about the erasing of the rules in the Death Note. If he really had done such a thing, I wanted desperately to know his motives. _No…_ I reminded myself. _Rem warned me not to talk to him at all, so I shouldn't ask him. But I want to know so badly! Is he really so evil?_

I forced my wobbly legs to carry me forward. I was crossing a grassy field now, and as I looked up, I saw with horror that the only way to go was _up._ Across the field, a massive wall of rock shot vertically into the sky, circling around the world in a half dome. The edges of it touched the forest, which was swiftly turning red, and I realized that there would be no going around it. If I wanted to continue to evade Kira, then the only thing I could do was run as far as I could, then climb up the craggy rocks. I took a few more jarring steps towards the rocks, then faltered. Did… did I have the strength to make such a climb? I could barely see the top of the cliff over the silvery clouds—just how far up did it really go?

Looking back, I saw that the red sea was expanding even swifter than before, creeping towards me disturbingly fast. _It looks like it's not a matter of whether its possible to climb it or not,_ I thought. _If I want to live, then I'm going to have to find a way to make it work._

With that in mind, I took off for the cliff at a dead sprint.

 _I have to make it… I have to._

†††

L awoke the next morning to a sharp kick in the side. Then a fist to the face. Believing he was being attacked, L immediately propped himself up, head snapping from side to side in a search for his attacker. But the sight he was met with was something far worse than an attacker in his room.

Matt was leaning over Light, clearly attempting to pin him to the bed as the teen thrashed against him. "Light, please!" Matt attempted, pressing his forearms into his chest, wincing as one of Light's fists smashed into his cheek. "Calm down!" Light responded by jerking his knee up and accidentally striking L in the stomach. The detective immediately rose to his knees, throwing himself over the thrashing teen and helping Matt pin him down.

"What the hell is happening?" L burst out, too stunned to care about the fact that he'd used improper language.

"I don't know! He just started kicking, and punching, and—!"

He broke off as Light writhed weakly beneath his arms. "Hurts!" he gasped out, forcing Matt's arms off him as he rolled onto his side and curled into a ball. It was a very uncharacteristic thing to do, and it worried L immeasurably. "So much red… there's so much red! L, help m—!" He was clearly still half dreaming, still caught up in that hazy limbo between sleep and consciousness.

It took the detective a moment to snap out of it. "It's okay, I'm here," he comforted the near-incoherent teen. He wrapped his arms firmly around Light, at least partially easing his squirming. "Just calm down, everything is going to be fine."

Light didn't seem to agree with that. Though he was no longer able to lash out, he did everything in his power to break away from L's hold, emitting soft whimpers and half-formed sentences.

" _Light,"_ L snapped. "Wake up, Light!" He tightened his grip on the teen, shaking him harshly. He'd been having an abnormal amount of nightmares recently, L noted.

Light's eyes snapped open, and he let out a horrible screech. "Kira—!" His eyes focused on L a heartbeat later, and his fear appeared to die down just a few moments after that, his chest heaving painfully. The bandages wrapped around his bare chest were soaked in sweat and patches of blood—he must have torn open some of his wounds.

"Your wounds…" L trailed off. "Come on, Light, let me see your back."

He shook his head weakly, refusing to move until L reached out and gently rolled him onto his front. L winced as he saw the bright red patches covering Light's back. He'd torn his injuries wide open, it seemed.

Matt let out a hiss through clenched teeth. "That doesn't look good… Light, what hurts? Is it just your back?"

The teen didn't even appear to notice that his wounds had reopened. "My head…" he groaned. "Hurts…"

"Medicine?" Matt offered feebly.

The agonized teen just shook his head, then winced at the small movement. "Won't work… the pain isn't normal…"

 _Isn't normal?_ L shuddered at the thought that this was the pain Kira was causing him, the pain that could be healed through no form of medicine. "Then lay still, and Matt will get you something to drink and some fresh bandages. Are you hungry, by any chance?"

He moved as if to shake his head, then stopped himself, clearly weary of causing himself more pain. "No."

L looked up at Matt. "Water, please. And bring some bandages and antiseptic," he said. "Fetch Near and Mello as well." He looked back down at his companion. "Light, is it Kira? Are you going to lose control?" The teen didn't answer this time, only pressed himself closer to L. His hands were clutching at his shirt in a way that L had become accustomed to, only now it was far too weak. "Just hold on," L murmured in his ear.

A few minutes later Matt returned with Near and Mello. A glass of water was clutched in one hand, a roll of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic in the other. He handed the glass wordlessly to L. "Light," L urged. "I need you to uncurl. I have water for you."

Light folded in on himself slightly further before beginning to uncurl. When he lay somewhat flat L rolled him onto his back and got behind him, propping him up. He raised the glass to Light's lips and aided him in drinking the offered liquid. He tried not to notice the shocked expressions on the faces of his successors out of the corner of his eye. The moment the glass was taken away Light curled back up in L's lap.

"No," L murmured, gently pushing Light onto his front, forcing him to display his bleeding wounds. His hands went to the bandages covering his injuries, gently unwrapping them. He winced when he got a good look at them. They were swollen and irritated, and slightly hot to the touch. L was immediately worried about infection. "Matt, hold him still," L requested. "This is going to hurt."

The successor nodded, eyes wide and afraid as he gripped Light's shoulders. A heartbeat later L drizzled the antiseptic over the deep wounds crisscrossing the teen's back, briefly considering the fact that he'd have to have Watari change the bed sheets later. L waited for the scream that would no doubt accompany the sudden introduction of antiseptic. But to his horror, Light didn't even respond to the stuff being applied to his inflamed wounds. The most he did was sniff as if he were holding back tears.

"Light?" L asked slowly. "Are you okay?"

The teen shook his head faintly. L looped an arm beneath him, drawing his limp form just slightly up so he could begin to wrap the bandage around his chest and back. When his work was complete, he gently turned Light onto his back. His hands immediately shot to the teen's pale face, soothing over his hair, stroking at his jaw. The whole time, Light did little more than wince. His expression was completely devoid of life, his eyes glazed over. L felt as if a heavy stone were resting in his stomach. What had just happened to Light? Why was he so… blank?

"How did this get so bad so quickly?" Mello demanded, his voice unusually soft. "He seemed fine when I was keeping watch last night."

"And he was acting almost cheerful when I was keeping watch," Matt put in.

"I was convinced that he was getting a handle on it…" Near seated himself beside Light, reaching out and stroking a few fingers across his forehead. The teen didn't even acknowledge the contact. "He's warm again."

Matt sat down next to Near and took Light's hand in his own. "This is bad," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Mello was the only one to remain standing, not moving to sit on the bed with the other successors. "I don't want to be the realistic one here, but we may want to restrain him."

"Mello!" Near snapped, his voice soft even in anger.

"No," L murmured. "He's right. Look at the condition he's in. If this goes on, it's only reasonable to believe that Kira will overwhelm him."

"But still, we can't just restrain him!" Matt protested. "I mean, that just seems cruel! The guy is in pain, he needs comfort, not chains!"

L tightened his grip on Light, eyes squeezing shut. "I will act as his chain, so to speak."

"What?"

"How?"

"I'll stay with him," L said softly. "Constantly. Our plan was to rotate through cycles as we did yesterday, but after this I don't feel comfortable leaving him. As is such, I will act as his chain of sorts, making sure he doesn't leave this room."

"We can still take turns staying in here just to make sure he doesn't turn and overpower you," Mello said. "Besides, if he needs anything you won't be able to leave to get it. And you have to sleep, after all."

L paused to consider. "Fine, it's settled. Two of us will be in here at all times, myself always being one of them. Explaining my disappearance to the task force won't be hard, especially if I still work on the case when Light is sleeping."

Light jolted suddenly, amber eyes locking on L's form. "No!" he rasped, chest heaving, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. "You… you can't s-stay here! You have to w-work on the case with the task force!"

The detective stared down at him pityingly. "I will not work if there is something I could be doing to comfort you."

"You want to… c-comfort me?" His words were spoken in shallow pants of breath. "Then… w-work!" Having delivered his message, his head dropped back limply into L's lap. The detective's hands were in his hair in a heartbeat, smoothing the strands back delicately. This must have brought relief to Light, for he relaxed with a groan, pushing into L's hands.

"I will work. Just not when you're conscious." L looked up at his successors. "The task force will already be expecting you. Near, I want you to spend time here first today. Mello can go after you, then Matt. Understood?"

"Soichiro will want to see Light again if he thinks his condition has worsened," Matt warned. "And I don't think he'll be happy to see him asleep again."

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," L responded shortly. "Until then, I want you to act as if nothing has changed. On the record Light's condition has not worsened enough to be severely concerned, but I have decided to stay with him during the day just to be safe, and one of you will accompany me for security reasons. Off the record, things have obviously become much worse, and I am staying here for comfort. No one else can be allowed to know of this."

"Sounds good." Mello extended a hand to Matt, pulling him to his feet. "It's getting late. I'll head down with Matt and tell the task force what's going on."

†††

Matt rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pushing his goggles down around his neck. He'd been noticing himself taking them off quite often lately.

"This isn't looking very good for either of them."

Matt's attention was drawn to the older male leaning against the wall of the elevator, turning a wrapped chocolate bar over in his hands but not eating it. He didn't blame Mello; he didn't have an appetite either.

He went on. "I mean, you saw him. Does anyone actually think he's going to last against Kira? He said it himself, Kira is still gaining power. He plans to increase the pain until it becomes unbearable."

"We may have already reached that point," Matt murmured. His heart ached for the unfortunate pair. He couldn't imagine being in L's position, forced to watch his lover suffer knowing that the only relief from the pain would be death or submission to Kira. And that, he knew, was worse than death. The teen reached for a cigarette and popped the end in his mouth, lighting it for a change. "He can barely speak as it is."

Mello tucked the bar of chocolate in his pocket. He focused on his boots, a look in his eyes that displayed his clear attempt to mask the pain he felt. "I'd give him a few days at most."

Matt stepped forward, reaching out a hand to the blonde. "Mello…" He attempted to find words for the situation. "You don't have to act so cold towards them. I know how you feel right now."

The second ranked successor hesitated only a moment before taking Matt's hand and pulling him into an embrace. "I want to hate him," he hissed bitterly. "But seeing L happy like that, I just _can't._ I can't hate someone who makes him smile. I've _never_ seen him smile before this."

"I know," Matt comforted. "I'd never seen him smile before this either. And now… the source of that rare happiness is going to be taken away from him."

The elevator came to a halt. Matt swiftly released Mello and stepped away before the doors opened. Soichiro and the rest of the task force were upon them almost immediately. Matt sighed, enduring the onslaught of questions thrown his way. He had a feeling that this was going to be a painful conversation.

†††

As predicted, Light's father wanted to see him the moment Matt announced that his condition had worsened even a tiny bit. L had been tempted to drug the suffering teen so he wouldn't have to be awake for the duration of the visit, but he knew it would appear more than suspicious if Soichiro found Light unconscious yet again. He may even demand to call the hospital again, thinking his son had gone catatonic. So L left Light conscious for the second meeting of father and son. It wasn't like Light was in any condition to reveal his identity as Kira's host body to his father in any case. The poor boy wasn't speaking much, claiming that the sound of his own voice was grating. As a result, neither of them exchanged more than a few words at a time. Instead L pulled Light into his lap, not bothering to attempt uncurling his agonized form. And that was how Soichiro found them, Light using L as a pillow and the older man using the younger as a lap warmer. He'd appeared flustered to say the least. After all, it wasn't exactly common knowledge that the two geniuses were in any sort of relationship other than their alias as begrudging allies. It had been apparent that Soichiro was swallowing a fit of anger and confusion as he approached the bed and stood stiffly beside it, one hand flitting out to brush across his son's hair. Light's eyes flickered up to his father briefly, and he very nearly said something—but then he winced, clearly responding to some twinge of pain deep within his mind, and thought better of it.

"He's doing worse, then?" Soichiro snapped gruffly.

L had given him a nod, and that was it. Soichiro Yagami turned and left without saying so much as a goodbye to his son. No doubt the task force was going to hear about this. L shuddered at the thought.

It was many, many minutes before Near—who had remained sitting silently in the corner for the duration of Soichiro's visit—spoke for the first time since Matt and Mello's departure. "I hate to bring this up, L, but don't you think this is cruel?"

The world's top three greatest detectives played idly with a lock of Light's hair. "It's beyond cruel." Near was obviously waiting for more on the matter, but he got nothing else.

"Well then… why don't you do something to end it?"

L looked up sharply. "What are you implying?" He found himself immensely relieved that shortly after Soichiro's departure, Light had fallen into a light doze, so he couldn't hear what Near was saying.

Near shifted uncomfortably. "I thought that would be obvious. I know that you are not yet willing to kill him, but we should at least move him to a remote location. You can work with the task force via computer, and Light will be completely restrained until…until we find a solution."

L heard the true meaning behind those words. _We'll keep him there until you realize that we have no choice but to kill him._

"No," the detective insisted. "We won't move him away from this place."

The white-haired teen narrowed his eyes, the normal crystalline gray color suddenly seeming much sharper. "Then what's the alternative? This? Do you want Light to live in constant pain and fear that he'll hurt somebody? If you are so determined to keep him alive, then your only choice is to move him from this location for safety's sake. If he gets loose, then it's entirely possible that he will kill us all."

"It's not the only choice!" L spat. "He can beat this!" Almost as if on cue, Light suddenly groaned in his sleep and curled tighter around L. His beautiful face was contorted into an expression of agony. L rubbed his back comfortingly, and his twisted features eased slightly.

Near just shook his head sadly. "No one will blame you if you decided to kill him," he said simply. "Light won't hold it against you."

"You need to leave now."

He did.

†††

It was cold.

In actuality, it was a lot of things, but the thing I felt most was the _cold._ It was a sort of chill that reached through your clothing and grasped at whatever skin it could, turning your fingers blue and spreading a dull blush across your cheeks. Not at all gentle. Not at all pleasant. This was the sort of cold that aimed to kill. It was a gun, cocked and aimed at the center of my forehead. The higher I went, the higher I climbed up this infernal rock face I was scaling, the colder it got. Silvery snow whirled around me, making the rocks icy and slick. Every step was a battle to hold on, to keep my grip so I didn't plummet to the rocks below. I looked down at my feet. The snow was building higher on the rocks, making it harder and harder to cling to them. My shoe slipped off my next foothold, and for a terrifying moment I thought I would fall. The red water wasn't beneath me, not yet—but I didn't want to find out the hard way if I could die in this world like a normal human, especially not from smashing my head open on the rocks below. I regained my footing after a moment's struggle, and pushed myself up another inch. My hand reached up, shoving into the snow and finding a place to grip.

"Ow!" I yelped suddenly, yanking my hand away. I held it up before my eyes, shaking snow from my silvery flesh, and realized that the skin had been split open by a particularly sharp rock that I hadn't been able to feel due to the numbness caused by the cold. My blood, I saw, was just as silver as the rest of me. Ignoring the pain, I found a different handhold and hauled myself further up. Just a little longer, just a few more feet, and I would reach the top of the cliff.

"I could make this all stop…"

His voice was in my head again.

"All you have to do is give in to me, and it will be all over _._ "

I shook my head back and forth desperately, clawing for my next handhold.

"This is inevitable. Why do you continue to suffer for the sake of those who only _pretend_ to love you? You do realize that L is just going to dump you once he realizes you're a lost cause, right?"

"You're wrong!" My own voice was so _weak…_ My eyes flickered down to my chest. The red splotch was covered in a thin dusting of snow, but I could still see the severity of the corruption. What was worse, everywhere Kira had touched was beginning to throb painfully, as if I'd been harshly struck. Contradictory to the pain, there was a paralyzing numbness starting in my fingers and toes, slowly creeping along my limbs. I feared that if it continued, I would soon be unable to feel anything.

A harsh breeze whistled past, and I flattened myself against the rock face in an attempt to escape it. I kept up my miserable climb, shoving my shoes into cracks in the rock as I hauled myself upwards. The world was beginning to fade, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before I awoke. The top of the cliff was just two feet away… with great effort, I shoved myself up a few more inches, just enough to hook my fingers over the edge. With strength beyond my battered, crimson-stained form, I managed to climb up and over the edge. The instant I knew I wasn't going to fall, I collapsed to the ground with a huff. I lay on my back, staring up at the silvery sky, chest heaving. That numbness was spreading like a disease, but so was the dull pain. It seemed that all the different parts of my body were either numb or emitting a dull ache, and it wasn't a pleasant combination. I thought that I should get up, that I should keep moving to get away from the red sea—but I found myself entirely unable to move.

A heartbeat later, my world was too blurred, too faded for me to comprehend the fact that I could be in danger. I hadn't bothered to check the water level, or how far the sea had expanded. I didn't even know if I was really safe. But I couldn't quite bring myself to rise.

I heard a low chuckle in my ear. "Go back to your master, little slave," Kira whispered. "You'll be back."

I had not the strength to speak. The cold was biting at my core, and it was only a few heartbeats before I felt darkness close in around me.

†††

Three days later, Light had deteriorated even further. L could see it in the way his flesh paled, the way his eyes grew duller and duller. That beautiful amber he'd grown so accustomed to was fading to a shade that was barely tan. But what really worried the detective wasn't the lack of brown in Light's eyes—no, that wasn't it. What _really_ worried the detective was the subtle addition of red. Every time L looked into his lover's eyes, he saw it. A flicker of red, so light that it was barely visible—but it was undeniably there, and it seemed to grow stronger and stronger with every passing hour. Luckily, both him and the successors had the sense to shut up about it, as not to discourage Light further.

The teen hadn't eaten. Everything that went down came straight back up. He was hooked up to an IV again. It wasn't a rare occurrence that L pressed his forearm to Light's flesh only to find it burning with what could only be fire running through his veins. He was awake less and less, but he still appeared to have gotten no sleep at all. Even when he was awake, he was in a daze. He was plagued by nightmares. It seemed that every day began the same way—Light would start whimpering and thrashing in his sleep, and most of the time L would receive at least a few kicks and punches from the incoherent teen. Then, whoever was in the room, (Matt, most of the time, since he had the last shift) would be forced to help L hold Light down, lest he reopen his wounds yet again. Of course, most of the time the attempt was a failure, and L ended up disinfecting and bandaging Light's bleeding slashes all over again.

And as if that weren't enough, Light was becoming more and more unstable in waking hours as well. The trauma he'd come away with from his time with Beyond had been pushed to the back of L's mind due to how severely it paled in comparison to the threat of Kira's impending takeover. But now that things had settled down—or at least, now that the shock of Light being possessed by Kira had worn off somewhat—L was beginning to realize just how torn up Light really was. He saw it in the little things—the way the teen flinched away whenever someone touched him without warning, the way his eyes flitted back and forth endlessly, the way his fists clenched whenever someone spoke in more than a soft tone. He was clearly trying to hide his uneasiness, but for someone as watchful as L, it was useless. The only exception seemed to be when he was unconscious or near a state of incoherency due to the headaches. And even if L hadn't been as attentive to detail, there were other, more obvious ways to figure out just how damaged Light had become. One of those ways, and probably the most disheartening, was the fact that L hadn't been able to kiss his own lover properly in days. Every time he got within an inch of making contact, Light drew away as if he'd been stung. This was something that L had expected to fade within a few days, or even a few weeks. But it had already been just over a week since Light had awoken after his rescue, and things only seemed to be getting worse. He was barely allowing L to hold him during the night anymore. But seemingly contradictory to the increasing distance between the two physically, Light absolutely rejected the idea of L leaving the room for any length of time. He didn't seem to want to be away from the detective for even a moment, and he seemed eager to be close to him whenever his headache became unbearable. But at any other time, the teen seemed quite resistant to touch. Of course, L hadn't begun this relationship with his suspect because merely for want of physical contact—but still, there was only so much he could take. Light's fear was beginning to both worry and irritate him. But for now, there seemed to be nothing that he could do.

And so L stayed with Light and waited for everything to end—be it in Light's favor or Kira's.

†††

Several days later, Light awoke from the haze he had fallen into. His eyes locked onto L's blearily, and for a terrifying moment there wasn't even a shred of recognition in that haunted, pained gaze. But it didn't last long, and Light managed a small smile a few moments later.

"L," he rasped. His lips parted to say something more, but he was swiftly cut off as he hacked painfully. The detective immediately raised a glass of water to his lips, forcing the tortured teen to take a sip. It was not unlike when he'd fallen ill with that terrible fever, with him thrashing away from any substance weakly, refusing everything offered to him. Light attempted to spit out the water, only to be met with L's hand clasping over his mouth and nose. He swallowed the liquid immediately, coughing violently the moment L removed his hand. He inched away from the detective tentatively, still spluttering.

"Sorry," L said softly. "I know that the IV is helping you in regards to hydration, but you should still ingest water orally whenever you can. Please, drink more."

Light turned his head away weakly. "Please…" he rasped. "Don't make me…"

L's gaze softened as he saw the panic in his lover's eyes. "Okay, okay. Calm down. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to."

The words seemed to soothe Light. "Thank you." He sat up, leaning against the headboard, and L saw with relief that his eyes were the clearest they'd been in days. "I've been unconscious for many days now, haven't I?"

"Not for days at a time," L responded slowly. "Just… just large portions of those days."

"I see." He turned to face the detective, bringing his knees up to his chest a way quite unusual for him. "L…"

 _…Will you kill me?_ That was the question L was expecting, and he feared it. Feared it because the request was becoming more and more favorable, feared it because there was a gun tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk, and L found himself more and more inclined to use it.

"…Have you gotten anything new on the case?"

L exhaled sharply in what could have been relief, but what could also have been disappointment. "Nothing new, no. Beyond doesn't want to be caught, and other than that, you're our only lead. But the team doesn't know that."

"Shame. They'd probably kill me."

L's hand was dangerously close to reaching for that gun.

"I can hear him, you know. He talks to me. Every day, all the time. In my dreams."

"Does he keep you there? Is that why you don't wake up?"

"Partly, yes. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be." He rubbed at his neck absently. "Hey, L?"

"Yes, Light?"

"Can I go see the task force?"

L's mind went blank. Why did he want to go when he couldn't even walk without help? "Out of the question. You are too weak."

"L, _please._ I need them to see I'm still alive. _I_ need to see that I'm still alive. Just allow me this one thing."

L studied him carefully. He looked terrible, of course, but this was the most he'd spoken in what felt like weeks. A quick glance at the calendar hanging over by the desk confirmed that it had actually been one week of staying with Light 24 hours a day. One week of watching him suffer. One week of watching red bleed into his eyes. "You are too weak," he insisted stubbornly. "I don't want the task force to see how severe your condition has become. If I wheel you to them in a wheelchair it will make your father blow a gasket. He's already suggesting we take you to a hospital again."

"Then don't use a wheelchair. Let me walk."

"You haven't the strength, and you know it. Let us talk about something else."

The auburn-haired teen pursed his lips in a way that would have been adorable had his face not been pale and gaunt. "I want to go see them."

"Too bad."

"That's not fair!" he whined.

"Life isn't fair. If it was, you wouldn't be dying right now."

An awkward silence descended upon them. "I'm not dying," Light said at last. "I'm not. Really."

L immediately attempted to perform damage control. "Of course not. It was a slip of the tongue. I apologize if I upset you." There was a long period of silence as the two of them watched each other without really seeing, each lost in their own thoughts of the future. Then Light spoke again.

"L, you know how this is going to end."

"No."

"But you—"

"I said no, Light!"

Light's eyes glowed sadly. "Just listen to me for a moment. Kira is gaining ground. It won't be long before… before—" he broke off. "Look… all I want is to work beside the task force. Let me help you."

 _"You_ help _me?"_ L spluttered. He looked down on Light with astonishment, eyes flickering over his near-translucent skin and protruding ribs. How could he hope to help? L wasn't sure if he could walk, let alone function alongside the task force. But then again… it was beginning to occur to L that Light's remaining days were quite possibly dwindling into single digits.

"One day."

Light looked up, surprised. "Pardon?"

"You get one day with the task force. Then you have to promise to come back and _stay here_."

The brunette's expression was so completely stunned that it almost made L laugh. It was as if he couldn't believe he had gotten his way. "Deal."

L gave him a gentle smile, running his hand through Light' hair. He frowned as the teen flinched away, a flicker of fear contorting his face into a disturbed expression. Immediately L felt a jolt of annoyance—why was Light so fearful of being touched? He stubbornly pressed his fingertips to Light's knee, and the teen had the same reaction—a slight flinch and a fearful glance shot in L's direction. _That's it…_ L thought irritably. _This has to stop._

"Get up."

Light looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Get up. We're going somewhere."

"W-what happened to me being too weak to move?" Light stuttered out.

L got to his feet, moving to Light's side of the bed and tugging him up. The instant the teen staggered, he looped an arm around his chest, mindful of the bandages. "I'll support you."

"But where are we going? You have to call one of the successors to watch me in case Kira takes over! It's bad enough that we're alone right now!"

L suppressed a groan. He'd sent Mello, who was supposed to be on watch, to wait outside so he could have a few minutes alone with Light. That way, if he heard a scuffle break out between a newly in control Kira and L, it would take no time at all for him to enter the room and help restrain the teen. "There are surveillance cameras where we're going, and I'll bring a loaded gun just in case. How does that sound?" Secretly, L thought that even if Kira took control, he wouldn't need to use the gun. The teen was already so weak, it wouldn't take much for L to subdue him. _I won't use the gun yet,_ L thought. _It won't come to that._

"W-what if Kira takes over? He could _kill_ you, L."

"Thus the gun."

Light fell silent. He seemed to understand. "Oh."

L rolled his eyes, reaching into his back pocket and retrieving his cell phone. He dialed Watari's number and murmured, "That thing I requested? Deliver it to the appointed place." He waited for Watari's word of affirmation, then hung up without another word. "Come on," he urged Light. "We should go."

†††

L pushed open the door to the rooftop, helping Light up the final step and under the small overhang that gave way to a wide open area.

Light frowned, eyes cast towards the sky. "It's raining," he noted.

Indeed it was. Rain fell from the sky at a steady rate, not quite enough to be considered a downpour. The entire rooftop was already soaked in the stuff, save for the small patch of dryness beneath the overhang the two geniuses stood under. L frowned, eyes raking the saturated stone that made up the roof. It wasn't quite what he was expecting, but it would serve his purpose. "Do you care about getting wet?"

Light shook his head wordlessly, though his expression was one of bewilderment.

L propped his lover against the wall, then moved to the other end of the overhang. There was a large blue and white ice chest there, no doubt left by Watari per L's instruction. The detective grabbed the handle of the thing and toted it out into the rain, not even noticing as water slowly soaked into his clothing and hair. It was cool outside, he noted. Not quite cold, not quite warm—the temperature lingered in the median, lukewarm at best. The smell of wet pavement filled the air, and the dull fizz of rain striking the rooftop engulfed L's ears pleasantly. He'd always loved the rain.

Light was yelling something over the rain. L frowned, turning to face him. He couldn't quite hear the teen. He raised a hand to his ear, shaking his head slightly.

The teen looked exasperated. He called out again, but still L could hear nothing. He cupped his ear once again, smiling slightly as he saw the irritated look on his lover's face. Light pushed himself away from the wall with some difficulty, beginning to make his way over to L. The detective watched closely for any sign that he would fall, ready to dart forward and support him at any moment—but to his relief, Light seemed at least mostly steady on his feet as he walked out into the downpour.

"Why are we out here?" he demanded, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the rain. "What's the big idea?"

L sank into his usual crouch, motioning for Light to sit across from him. He pulled the ice chest so it sat beside them. "Sit with me."

Frowning, Light sat atop the soaked roof. His pajamas—which just so happened to be a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt—were almost instantly soaked through. His hair was plastered to his head in seconds.

L wordlessly opened the ice chest. He dug around inside for a moment, then withdrew two cans, handing one to Light. The teen hadn't been able to keep much of anything down recently, but L had a feeling that this night would be different. The feeling wasn't backed up by any evidence or scientific data. It was just that—a feeling.

The teen raised a brow curiously. "L?"

The detective popped the tab on his can, drinking deeply before speaking. "What? What's wrong?"

"I don't think it's the best idea for someone possessed by Kira to drink anything of this nature. Lowering my inhibitions isn't exactly the best thing to do in this situation, don't you agree?"

"No, it's probably not."

Light eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer. Then, slowly, he opened his can and took a small sip. "I didn't think you were one to consume alcohol, L, especially not _this_ of all things."

L shrugged, drinking once again. "What, did you think that I got through life on nothing but sugar and coffee? Even the best of us are prone to the desire to drink once and while, Light. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with beer. What did you think I'd drink?"

Light shrugged. "Oh, I don't know… a wine cooler, maybe? It'd have to be something sweet… a _girl_ drink."

"Normally you'd be right—I find myself drawn to _girl_ drinks, as you call them. But for once, I am not in the mood for something sweet." Water was dripping down his face, creating streaks that were not so different from the residue left from tears.

Light took another small sip. He was still tense. "Why did you drag me out here? It's not a good idea to take me somewhere without one of the successors, you know. What if Kira—?"

L cut him off sharply. "Let's not talk about Kira."

"What? Why n—?"

"Light…just drop it. We're going to sit here and drink, and when you've consumed enough then you're going to tell me what's wrong."

He blinked, setting his can on the rooftop beside him. "What do you mean?"

L drew in another mouthful of alcohol. He hadn't consumed anything like this for years, at least, and he was sure it wasn't going to take much to incapacitate him. But he knew that the same could be said of Light—that's what he was counting on. "What do you think, Light? You've been distant at best since we got you back."

Light's eyes flashed dangerously. "Just what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you know…you haven't been speaking much, and every time I try to touch you, you flinch away."

"And you thought the best way to ask me what was wrong would be to drag me up to the roof, _in the rain,_ and force alcohol down my throat?"

L stared at his lover blankly. "It…it sounded good in my head."

Light's lip curled up in a snarl. "You _moron._ Just what the hell were you thinking?"

The detective flinched, taken aback by Light's sudden anger. Had he really offended him so greatly? "I apologize, but you've seemed distant lately, and I didn't know how to bring it up."

The teen's eyes narrowed, and L knew he'd said the wrong thing. " _Distant?"_ Light echoed furiously. "I'll tell you what, _Ryuzaki._ Why don't _you_ spend a grand total of twelve days with Beyond, being constantly tortured with _no way_ of knowing if you'll ever see the ones you love again?"

L recoiled at the use of his pseudonym.

"And then, after that, why don't you try learning that _you_ are the mass murderer that you've been trying to catch for upwards of a year? Why don't you gain _another_ _personality_ and try running from him endlessly, night after night, in a nightmare that never ends? Perhaps you should try lying helplessly in bed, a headache splitting your skull open, and being forced to watch the only people you really care about try to help you with absolutely _no way_ of doing so. After you've been through that, after you've seen _hell… then_ you can talk to me about being _distant."_

…This wasn't going at all how he'd planned. L raised the can to his lips, and this time he didn't pull it away until it was over half empty. Light, on the other hand, had yet to take more than two sips. "Light," he sighed. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, all he felt was a pit of irritation deep in his stomach. _No,_ he thought. _I can't take it out on him._ But all of his frustration was building within him, spurred on by Light's outburst. All of his anger, all of that buildup from the past two weeks of watching Light waste away, was bubbling in his throat, begging to spew forth venomous words. Saying what he felt wasn't going to do him any good; taking it out on Light would gain him nothing—but despite knowing that, he still opened his mouth and hissed, "How do you think it feels when you beg me to kill you?"

Light blinked, anger momentarily forgotten. "W-what?"

"Perhaps when _you've_ been forced to endure the sound of your own lover begging you for death, then _you_ can understand." _No, stop!_ L thought desperately. _You're just making things worse—you can't compare your experiences to his! Just ignore your anger, like you've always done! Swallow that vile emotion and don't let it come back up!_ "How do you think it feels to know that you're utterly useless to help the only person you love? How do you think it feels to sit here and watch you _die?_ The least you could do is act like you value your own life, you… you _bastard!_ But all you've done is lie in bed and beg me to kill you. You haven't even _attempted_ to come up with a solution to all of this. You've already thrown in the towel. You've already decided you've lost, and it's infuriating! What happened to the Light Yagami that wouldn't stop trying until he reached a solution? What happened to the Light that wouldn't accept defeat, no matter what was thrown his way? _What happened to the Light that wanted to live?"_ The instant the words left his mouth, L wanted to take them back. _Oh god, now I've done it…he'll hate me for this!_

The teen looked outraged for a heartbeat, and L was half convinced that he was going to start throwing punches. But then he seemed to deflate, just as swiftly as he'd become enraged, and he picked up his can once again to sip from it. His cheeks were slightly red from the cool air. "You want to know what happened?" he muttered. "I lost my memories. That Light you knew, that version of myself… it was Kira. The one you're asking about is Kira."

L winced, but didn't allow regret to show on his face. "Even if that's the case, you could at least act like you care about staying alive," he growled.

Light didn't respond for a long moment. He was drinking more now, and L was struck by the somewhat amusing realization that he would most likely finish his first can before L himself, despite his initial reluctance. "I guess we're both terrible human beings," Light said at last. "We've been pretty shitty to each other recently, at least where the sharing of emotions is involved."

" _Emotions_ ," L muttered, anger beginning to die down. "So troublesome, don't you think? We wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for those terrible emotions. What would it have been like, I wonder? What would have happened without them? Would we still have ended up on this rooftop on this rainy day?" L heard a can crunch, and a heartbeat later Light was throwing away the empty container. L wordlessly handed him another, and before the teen paused to speak he'd already downed half the can.

"As troublesome as emotions are, they're necessary, don't you think?" Light let out a deep sigh, leaning slightly forward. All his anger had vanished, to L's surprise. He'd expected a few more harsh words, at least. The teen's legs were crossed in front of him now, one elbow leaning on his knee. "How was it you described me? Distant?"

"Ah, yes… perhaps I was a bit harsh. What I meant to say was that ever since you were rescued, you've been growing more and more weary of touch. What's more, with this whole Kira thing going on, you're not awake too much, so we don't have the opportunity to exchange words about such matters. And the longer it goes on, the more problems go unstated, and the worse it gets."

The teen nodded shortly. "It sucks." Light hiccuped, and L realized that the alcohol was already working on him. He wasn't surprised—the teen had probably never consumed alcohol before, being the law abiding citizen that he was. "So what are we supposed to do about it?" He winced, and a heartbeat later he was rubbing at his temples. His headache must be returning.

"I was hoping that you would talk to me if I got you drunk."

Light laughed bitterly, downing the rest of his second can. "So I've heard, L. You could have just asked me. It's insulting that you'd try something like this."

"I'm sorry, and…I'm asking you now." L finished off the rest of his drink and reached for another.

"What is it that you want to know?"

"Why… why are you so resistant to me? Why aren't you getting better? I thought that after a while you'd begin to recover from your trauma… but it's just getting worse."

He laughed again. "Look, L…I've already told you. What Beyond did to me…it's something no human being should have to experience."

"I know…" L murmured. "And I want to help you. So please, tell me."

Light shook his head. "There's really nothing I haven't told you, I swear. You already know everything there is to know—and besides that, you saw the warehouse. You saw that huge tank, the knives, the blowtorch, the loose wires. And you saw what he did to my back."

L shuddered as he pictured those inflamed wounds.

"That's all there is. I promise. I'm hiding nothing."

L knew he was lying. There was something else, he knew. Something Light wasn't telling him. "There must be something more. If there isn't, then why are you getting worse?"

"I'm not getting worse," Light defended himself.

"Light… you haven't let me kiss you in days. You barely allow me to hold you anymore."

The teen raised his chin. "Then kiss me."

For a moment, L was almost tempted. But then he shook his head slowly, leaning away. "No, Light. I don't want to do that when you don't really want me to. Don't think I can't see how afraid you are."

The teen winced. He threw his second can to the side, and a heartbeat later he was sipping on a third. He shook his head harshly, and droplets of water sprayed everywhere. His cheeks were flushed, and L didn't think it was just from the rain.

"Sorry," Light muttered, noticing L's stare. "I don't have much of a tolerance for these things."

"There's no need to apologize. I wanted you to be intoxicated, remember?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, you told me." He took another sip. For several minutes longer there was a deep silence, in which Light got through the entirety of his third can and most of the way through the forth before setting it aside with a sigh. He slowly untangled himself and reclined onto his back, crossing his arms beneath his head. His front was turned skyward, taking the full heat of the pouring rain, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes slipped closed for a moment as he basked in the coolness of the rain. "L?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din.

"Yes, Light?"

"Do you want to know the truth?"

L blinked, surprised. He was just going to tell him, after all this fighting to get it out of him? "Yes, I would very much like that."

A small, bitter smile spread across Light's face. "Kira is in my head."

"Ah… yes, I know that."

"No, you don't understand. He's _in my head,_ L. He's always waiting, just when I go to sleep… waiting in a silver world."

This was the second time Light had mentioned a silver world. What was it supposed to mean?

"There's this place, L… I'm not quite sure what it's supposed to be. The shinigami said it was a dream, but it no doubt holds much more significance than that. But that doesn't really matter anymore, does it? He brings me there, every time I fall asleep. He pulls me into that silvery world, and tries to take over. He's completely red, as if he's been bathed in the blood of those he's slaughtered. And that red just keeps spreading, and spreading, washing over everything it comes into contact with. And once there's no silver left, once there's nothing but red… it'll be over. I will be Kira once again."

L's eyes widened. "That… that's why you've been having so many nightmares? That's what you meant when you said, _there's so much red?"_

"Yes, that's exactly what I meant. Kira… he managed to touch me. He managed to stain me with that horrific crimson hue. Which means… I'm already partially under his control. There are _things_ , L. Things that I haven't told you because _he_ won't let me."

"What kind of things?"

"Things like—" Light cut himself off suddenly as a pained whimper was drawn from his throat. His expression twisted painfully. "Sorry…I told you, he won't let me tell you."

L finished off his third can and tossed it aside carelessly. Secretly, it terrified him that Kira already had enough control to prevent Light from telling him something.

"It's important," Light murmured. He yawned, stretching out further. "It's… it's really important. But I can't…can't say anything about it. Every time I try, he just hurts me."

"Your headache?" L questioned. "Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, something like that…" Light yawned again. "I told you, L, he's gaining ground. There's not much time left. He's backing me into a corner, I can feel it. And every moment I'm asleep, it just gets worse and worse. Can't you understand that?"

"No, I can't. Not if it means that you'll expect me to kill you."

The teen shook his head with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. But I can't stop saying it, no matter how much I know it hurts you. I'm sorry, L. I really am. But with all due respect, you have no idea what this is like. You're not the one with a god in your head."

L edged over to his lover's side, reaching down and pressing his fingertips lightly to his chest. He nearly sighed in relief as he saw how Light didn't flinch away from his touch. "Thank you for telling me the truth, Light. At least, as much of it as you can manage."

He nodded slightly. "I think I can manage one more truth, if you want to hear it. There's one last thing I haven't told you."

Nodding, L murmured, "Tell me."

Light hesitated for a long moment. He crossed his ankles, uncrossed and re-crossed his arms beneath his head. His eyes flickered from L's face to the sky just beyond. "I thought you should know… I mean, I had some good advice from that shinigami, and…"

L remembered suddenly that Light had mentioned a shinigami earlier in their conversation. "What shinigami?" he asked. "Did a god of death appear to you?"

"Oh," Light murmured. "Yeah, I forgot to tell you."

 _That's quite a big detail to forget to tell me, Light,_ L thought.

"I have Rem's notebook. She showed up, we had a talk, I sent her away. But that's not the shinigami I was referring to. There's another one, a young boy. He looks _human_. He's been showing up in my head for a while now, and… and I think he saved my life when I was ill. But Rem told me that the child was evil, and so now I'm just not sure what's going on. I don't know who to trust."

L's eyes narrowed. "What does your instinct tell you?"

The teen shrugged. "I don't know. I would be willing to trust Rem if not for the fact that I really don't think the child is evil. Something's just… _wrong._ Something's wrong with this whole situation. And on top of everything, there were these two rules in the Death Note that I had one of the shinigami write in. They weren't real; they were meant to throw you off the investigation. But they aren't there anymore. That child shinigami erased them, and I don't know why. It's stuff like that… the little things, you might say, that make me doubt the child's intentions."

L didn't have a response for that. "Well…" he trailed off, at a loss for words.

Light's slightly glazed eyes locked onto him, and a small smile played across his features. He laughed.

"What's so funny?" L asked softly.

"Oh…" the teen chuckled. "It's just that… well, you said you didn't want to talk about Kira, and look what we've been discussing this whole time."

L found a flicker of amusement in that little fact. "Yes, it seems that we have veered a little off topic."

"We were never _on_ topic to begin with," Light muttered. "We just ended up fighting. It's kind of a depressing way to spend what could be one of our last nights together."

"Agreed," L responded. "I… I am sorry for what I said. I'm quite frustrated, you understand. I find myself unable to accept the possibility that I'll be forced to kill you."

"And I'm sorry as well," Light whispered. The rain was so loud that it was almost impossible to hear him. "I would stop asking you to kill me if I could, but you understand why I cannot. And though it may not seem like it, I do value my own life. I don't really… I don't really _want_ to die." He seemed to be forcing himself to speak the words. "I want to live, I want to stay with you. But it's just not possible." He looked away. "I told Matt all about it, but I wasn't going to tell you. I thought it would be easier if… if you thought I really wanted to die."

"Don't worry about it—I was never convinced that you wanted to die, anyways."

Light shrugged. "I guess I'm a terrible liar when Kira's not helping." The teen's eyes locked on L through a curtain of soaked hair, and a heartbeat later he was raising one hand to caress the detective's jaw. "It will be soon, L."

L knew immediately what he was talking about. "No, Light."

A strange look filled the teen's eyes. He pulled L down, hooking an arm around the back of his neck to hold him close, speaking in a hushed tone into his saturated locks. "It…it'll be lonely, won't it?"

L tried to pull away, to look Light in the eyes—but his grip was unusually strong, or perhaps _he_ was unusually weak. "What do you mean?" he whispered. "What is it?"

"It's just…" he broke off, and L realized with horror that some of the liquid dampening his flesh was _warm_ —Light was crying. "You and I…we'll be parting ways soon."

L drew breath sharply. "No, don't say that…don't remind me of such things."

The teen shook his head, brushing his hair across L's throat. "I'm sorry."

L succeeded in drawing away. But when he did, there was no sign of the tears he was certain had been present moments before. Perhaps the rain had washed them away, or perhaps he'd just imagined the brief warmth. In fact, Light showed no sign of having spoken the words that had just left his lips. He yawned, expression completely composed once more, eyes slipping closed for just a moment. L was reminded that it was quite late, and that the consumption of alcohol probably wasn't helping Light stay awake. L himself was feeling a bit tired; his head was buzzing pleasantly, but not quite enough to impair his reasoning. But despite Light's obvious exhaustion and his own, slightly intoxicated state, he didn't want to leave just yet. He pulled Light close, grateful when the teen didn't pull away. Then he lowered himself down slowly, lying on his back and staring up into the night sky. The stars weren't out—they were covered by rainclouds—but the sky was still beautiful. He kept his eyes locked on those clouds for what felt like hours. He watched how they moved, how they flitted around each other, and marveled at their impermanence. Nothing ever stayed the same for long, L thought. Everything was in a constant state of change, spinning and contorting with every passing minute. Sometimes those contortions didn't quite fall into place. Sometimes they made the entire sky seem dark and lifeless, and completely without hope. But sometimes, those contortions, those fluctuating movements, fell into just the right alignment, and for a moment L was permitted to gaze upon the moon. That beautiful crescent moon. _Just like Light's name,_ L thought in amusement. _If one hadn't heard it pronounced first, one might have called him Moon Yagami…_ L's eyes found Light for a moment, and he thought that perhaps the teen was very similar to the moon. His flesh was just as pale, his entire being just as captivating. But just like the moon, Light was fading, _waning._ How many days did he have until the new moon? How many days until Light's beauty was eclipsed by Kira's evil?

Light shifted beside him, and L realized that he was shaking slightly, presumably from the cold. "We should go in," the detective whispered. "We're soaked, and you look like you're about to fall asleep." When he received no answer from his lover, L scooped his arms beneath him and lifted him up.

Light shifted suddenly. "L, wait…"

"Yes? What is it?"

"I…" He broke off to yawn. "I never told you that last secret."

"Then tell me," L murmured. He was crossing the roof slowly, almost at the overhang. "We don't have long before we're back under the watchful eye of the successors."

Light buried his face in L's shirt, his breath hot against the detective's skin. "Do you really want to know?"

L paused, having reached the overhang. "Are you so determined to tease me, my Light?" He rested his hand on the doorknob, not moving to open it quite yet. He pressed his chin into the teen's soaked hair affectionately. "Yes, I want to know."

Light tilted his head upwards, pressing his lips lightly to L's neck. "L," he murmured, lips brushing the detective's flesh as he spoke. "I…I am at least ninety percent sure that I am in love with you."

A rush of warmth filled L's chest. He could hardly describe the swell of emotion building within him, could hardly comprehend its strength. "Light…" he whispered, barely able to speak through the grin stretched across his face. "I think you mean to say that you are _one hundred percent sure_ that you are in love with me."

L could practically _feel_ the blush spreading across Light's face as he murmured, "Yes."

Unable to conceal a smirk, L dipped his head and captured Light's lips with his own. For just a heartbeat he felt Light tense beneath him. But then he relaxed, and though L felt his obvious acceptance, he didn't push the kiss any further than a gentle press of lips. No matter how accepting Light seemed, L knew that he was not ready. He was not yet prepared to cast off the shadows of Beyond's actions, not prepared to go any further than this.

"I love you," Light repeated softly, as if now that he'd said it, he didn't quite know how to stop. "I love you, L…I don't want to leave you."

"I know," L responded in a hushed whisper. "And I promise you, as I've promised a hundred times before, that I am going to do anything in my power to stop Kira from winning, to stop you from leaving me. No matter what."

"No matter what…" Light echoed drowsily. "…That sounds good."

L cradled the teen closer to his chest as his eyes slipped closed and stayed that way. With one last press of lips to Light's forehead, he pushed open the door and headed inside.

†††

My whole body jolted as I lurched into a sitting position, drawing breath in a ragged gasp. My eyes raked the world around me, and it took me a long moment to realize just where I was—in the silver world. I remembered most of my conversation with L up on the roof, though much of it was slightly fuzzy. I….I'd told L that I loved him. I'd finally said it, after all this time of waiting, of making sure that was really how I felt. I wasn't like L. I couldn't just _say_ something like that like he had back when he'd rescued me. I had to be sure. I had to take a step back and think about my situation seriously, think about whether or not I should tell L something that would make it all the more painful when I was gone.

I pushed myself to my feet unsteadily, looking around. I'd been running across this rocky cliff for the past four nights with no sign of its end. But for some reason, I hadn't seen the red sea in those four nights even once. It was as if it had simply…vanished. The only sign I had of Kira's advancement into my mind was the series of ever growing headaches that plagued me during the day. Also in those four nights, Kira's voice had gone silent. I heard only light murmurs from some unidentifiable source. Though secretly, I thought that perhaps that voice was that of the child shinigami. Ever since Rem's warning, the child hadn't appeared to me. I hadn't had the chance to ask him why he'd erased those rules.

I began trudging across the silver rocks, shooting a glance behind me. Sill, there was no red in sight save for the splatters of the stuff on my own body.

 _Keep going,_ a voice whispered, a voice that I thought could have been the child shinigami. _You're almost there._

I looked to the horizon. My eyes widened as I realized that after so long running endlessly across this rocky place, I could see the end. There was what appeared to be a rather large cliff fast approaching. _At last,_ I thought. _Perhaps I'll be able to get off these rocks… my feet are starting to hurt, and there's not much to look at. But at least there's not any of that red water up here. Maybe this is the safest place I can be._

 _Don't be deceived,_ that voice whispered again. _Don't let him trick you…_

"What does that mean?" I asked aloud. But of course, I received no answer. I continued to move towards that cliff, towards that rocky crest. I drew closer and closer to it with every step, and before I knew it, I was almost at the edge. But…something was wrong. I frowned, noticing a dull red gleam emanating from the area on the other side of the cliff. No, that couldn't be…I had to be imagining it, right? There couldn't possibly be any red on that side of the cliff; the sea was supposed to be behind me! But as I got closer and closer, it became more and more obvious that I was wrong. There was a definite red glow coming from beneath that cliff. I felt my heart drop further and further into my stomach as I approached.

I was on the edge of the cliff now, standing barely a foot from the edge. I cast my gaze out over the cliff, and…

It…it wasn't possible.

The red…it was everywhere! That crimson water had completely filled up the other side of the cliff. It was a vast ocean, completely unbroken by anything other than that scarlet substance. There were no ripples, no movement at all. It looked not so much like water, but like glass. I glanced down and saw that the water was about twenty feet from the top of the cliff. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be moving.

I felt a light breeze flow past me. It wasn't much, but it chilled me to the bone—up here, so high above where I'd started, it was freezing. In fact, those tiny flakes of snow were still falling, though there was hardly enough of the stuff to form a light crusting of ice. Then that breeze was taking form, howling violently at my back, and I knew immediately what was happening. I turned, slowly, and was met with the sight of Kira. There were no footprints leading across the rocks. He'd simply…appeared. He was just as I'd seen him time and time again… exactly like me in every way, but made of candy red instead of silvery blue.

"Oh, Light," he sighed. "You're not looking too good. Are you okay?"

I snarled, taking a step back. But I realized with horror that I was at the edge of the cliff. A few more steps, and I would fall into the red water. Kira inched forward teasingly. _How,_ I wondered, _is he taller than me when we're using the same body?_

His eyes enveloped mine, entrancing me. "So foolish," he whispered. His lips barely moved, but his voice was terribly loud nonetheless. "You've run all this way, and suddenly I have you cornered. How unfortunate."

I inched backwards as he inched forwards. I was painfully aware of how easily he could reach out and touch me.

His fingers reached out in slow motion. A moment later his fingertips barely brushed the discolored section of my chest. I found myself frozen for a mere heartbeat, frozen in some sort of twisted fear of what he could do to me. But a moment later I heard that voice again.

 _Fight! What are you doing? You'll be consumed if you just sit there!_

The words shook me from my stupor. Kira had yet to touch any part of me that wasn't already corrupted, and I had to keep it that way. My eyes flitted from side to side, and I saw that I had very little room to run to either side—if I moved in any direction but directly forward, there was a strong possibility I'd lose my footing and plunge to the scarlet water below. _What am I supposed to do?_ I thought desperately.

 _You already know what you must do._

For just a heartbeat, I hesitated. But I knew the voice was right—if I wanted to escape, the only way to go was _forward._ And so I let all thought flee my mind as not to realize how crazy I was for even _thinking_ of attempting what I was about to do, and I forced my legs to move. In one swift movement I launched myself at Kira. It might have been suicide. It might have assured my death. But I had to do it, I knew. If I didn't, then he would push me into the water, and then it really _would_ be over. I would be lost to the evil of Kira.

Kira screeched as I bowled him over, obviously not having expected the bold move. I knew that time was precious. With every moment I was making contact with Kira, the red was spreading further and further across my form. I immediately struggled to draw away and begin running—but Kira had long since regained his composure, and in a single moment he flipped the both of so I was beneath him and curled his fingers around my throat. I felt the scarlet hue creeping across my form like a disease. Everywhere he touched was turning crimson, and to make things worth, his harsh fingers were cutting off my supply of oxygen. I barely had the strength to fight him in the first place, but this…

 _Is this the end?_

Kira snarled, drawing me just slightly up so he could slam me back against the ground. It reminded me of how Beyond had crushed me against the wall, time and time again, before I suddenly lost consciousness. _I can't let that happen this time!_ I thought, barely able to retain awareness. _This…this is too important!_

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Kira spat. "Having your form corrupted, your mind stolen from you? I would know. It's exactly what you did to _me_ when you gave up the notebook!"

I couldn't breathe. My lungs were aching, body going into throes.

"Poor Light Yagami, always fighting, never gaining any ground. You'll die like this. Here."

I believed him. That horrid color was swimming across my form at a blinding speed, and as it did, I felt the landscape around me redden. Not because of the water, no—but because that color had bled into my eyes, and I could see nothing but crimson. I really, truly believed that I was going to die. But then I felt a small point of warmth appear on my shoulder. I frowned. The warmth was growing steadily, beginning to return the feeling to one shoulder. What was it…?

Then I heard it.

"You're going to get through this, Light…"

"L!" I gasped out, barely hearing his voice through the storm of snow that was steadily beginning to pick up. The ground was blanketed in silvery red, and I had no idea when it'd happened. "L!"

The hold on my throat suddenly went lax, and I collapsed into the icy flakes. Kira's weight was gone a moment later. My cheek pressed against the snow-packed ground, and I felt my whole body shaking as I fought to locate the monster, who had left my field of vision. God, I was cold…when had the temperature dropped so low? I tried to pull myself to my feet and begin running, but a sharp blow to my stomach kept me dazed so that I didn't have the ability to move. Kira…he'd kicked me. A moment later I felt that kick again, and again…I barely registered the fact that I was being beat into ruthlessly. I was already hurting so badly already—that dull, throbbing pain from before had spread out to cover most of my body, leaving but a few parts of me untouched. I was in so much pain that another dose of the stuff didn't make any difference to my shattered body.

That voice was talking again. "Did you hear that? You're going to live. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Light…"

It…it was L! I had to reach him—! I reached out a weak hand to my shoulder. That was L, I was sure, grabbing hold of me in the real world. If only I could move! A harsh kick to my chest stopped all attempts at moving. Kira knelt beside me in the snow. Flakes were dusting his colorful hair, a few stray flecks of ice grasping gently at his eyelashes. He looked beautiful like that, leaning over me, even though I knew he was quite possibly about to put an end to me. I wondered if it was vain to think someone modeled after myself looked beautiful.

"He's calling you," Kira whispered. "I can hear it just as well as you, my Light. So what are you waiting for? Aren't you going to go to him? You _love_ him, after all. You confessed after all this time, only to go down like _this."_ He kicked me again.

I gagged, choking as Kira knocked the air out of me yet again. I forced my limbs to move, to push me up. I had to run, I had to get to L! I didn't bother to assess the damage I'd sustained as I began staggering away from Kira at what I hoped was a swift pace. Snow whirled around me, chilling me to the bone.

"Light, come back!" Kira called mockingly. "Don't you love me anymore?"

I didn't respond. I focused on moving away from Kira, away from the red sea. But a heartbeat later I heard Kira laugh, and my entire body gave out.

"Oh no!" Kira yelled over the wind. "What could have happened, Light? Why did you collapse?"

My lips curled in a snarl. I tried to get up, tried to move—but it was useless. My eyes traveled down my battered form, and I realized that Kira had almost entirely covered my front in red. The stuff was everywhere, splattered from head to toe. My decision to attack him…it may have been suicide.

"Light," Kira growled, tone low and dangerous. "Come here."

I shook my head, still attempting to move. And then I felt my body shifting—but it wasn't obeying me. To my horror, I felt my form rise to face Kira. One step at a time, my own body was betraying me to my worst enemy.

"That's it," Kira crooned. "Just a little closer, Light…"

"No!" A voice called from the other direction. "Light, please! Come back to me!"

 _L! L, no!_ I fought with all my strength to head in the opposite direction. But Kira's words were pulling me closer and closer, and I had no way to fight him. It didn't take more than a few steps before I was standing directly before the scarlet monster. He leered down nastily.

"Oh dear," he sighed. "It looks like you've lost so much control that your own body isn't listening to you any more. Oh, how I'd like to try this out in the real world…"

"Don't you dare!" I spat, raising my chin defiantly.

He raised a brow. "Are you challenging me, Light? I don't think you're in much of a position to do that…after all, you're already so close to being consumed. All it would take would be a few more touches, one here, one there, and…" His fingertips were inches from me.

"Bastard!" I snarled. "Let me go!" L's voice was still echoing in the back of my mind, calling me to him desperately. I wondered if that voice was real, and whether or not something was happening to me in the real world to signal my distress.

"I don't think so," Kira purred. He reached out and took me by the collar, spinning us around so our positions were reversed. He began backing me up, step by step, and no matter how hard I tried to look over my shoulder, my body wouldn't obey me. "How does it feel?" he whispered. "Knowing that you're going to kill L?"

"I will not kill him," I responded in a choked tone. "If he dies, it will be because of _you._ "

Kira shrugged. "Maybe you're right. But either way, you'll have to watch it happen. Are you prepared for that, my Light? Are you prepared to see him die beneath your knife?"

" _Your_ knife," I corrected viciously.

Kira's eyes glinted dangerously. His grip tightened on my collar, and he shook me harshly. "You've ruined _everything,"_ he spat. "Today, in the rain…you were supposed to _kill_ him. He's supposed to be _dead!_ " He backed me up two more steps. The cliff had to be close. "But no matter…I will right your wrongs. It will only take a little more _red_." A nasty snarl spread across his features. "But I've always been a perfectionist. I just couldn't take it if I missed some of that pesky silver. So…"

He backed me up one more step. His fingers uncurled from my collar, and I was standing freely once again. "Kira?" I gasped out, stunned. "What—?"

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll give your regards to your darling L."

He placed the palm of his hand against my chest, and for a moment time stood still. Then he was grinning, his teeth bared nastily. I felt my world tilt, and I realized that he'd pushed me backwards.

"Kira, don't—!" I screeched, fighting to move my numbed limbs.

He didn't listen. Instead, he stepped back. A heartbeat later I felt the ground leave my feet, and I was falling. Air whistled around me loudly, adding to the roar of the story swirling atop the rocks. I looked up and saw Kira, standing on the edge of that cliff and staring down, eyes glimmering. He was grinning. I suddenly regained control of my limbs—not that it did me any good. I thrashed and struggled, but nothing could stop the inevitable.

I felt water. Water was flowing all around me, splashing into the sky with a note of finality as I sank. The stuff was in my eyes, in my nose, in my throat…and a heartbeat later I was forced to swallow to avoid drowning, and it was in my stomach. My eyes were forced wide open, and as I sank further and further from the surface, I saw red bubbles floating up around me.

Voices filled my head.

 _Well, that's a shame, Light, because_ I _happen to like_ you _._

 _Call an ambulance for Light Yagami._

 _Beyond has always left clues in his crime scenes, and they always lead to his next target._

 _Can I take that to mean that if I were to stay, you would be able to care for me in the same way I care for you? You wouldn't feel disgusted; you wouldn't hate me?_

 _When I was five years old, my parents were killed in a fire._

 _You can keep that notebook. Light's going to need it_ when _he comes to his senses and joins me!_

 _You're asking me to kill you? You're asking me to choose between my duty as a detective and the affection I feel for you?_

 _I love you. And I'm not going to let a little thing like Kira take you away from me._

 _Are you prepared for that, Light? Are you prepared to watch him die beneath your knife?_

 _I love you, L…I don't want to leave you._

Those voices…all echoes of the past. I'd heard them all before. Some brought back positive images, others negative… some meant nothing. I felt my eyes closing as I sank further. I wanted to fight, I really did…but I had not the strength. The water was urging me to rest. It wanted me to forget everything, to close my eyes and never open them again. It wanted me to fade away.

 _It'll be lonely, won't it?_

I shook my head to clear it of that lingering voice. I…I needed stop this. I needed to start swimming or I would never see L again. He…he would die, and I wouldn't be able to do anything. But I was just so _tired_ …the water was gentle, lulling me to sleep. It was so tempting to just let it carry me away. I closed my eyes as darkness edged my vision. The water was like a caress, holding me close. A yawn escaped me, and red water surged into my mouth. It wasn't so bad here…it was calm, and peaceful. My back struck something firm, and I realized dully that I was resting on the ocean floor.

I was fading. My world was going dark, despite my feeble attempts to stay awake.

But before I slipped away, before I let that water sweep me into oblivion, I thought I heard one last echo of a painfully familiar voice. _L?_ I thought sleepily. _Is that you?_ It didn't matter anymore, I knew. It was too late. But despite all that, I still heard that voice. I still registered those words, grasped at their importance even in my last moments of consciousness.

The voice whispered in my ear.

 _We will be parting ways soon._

 **I really enjoyed writing that rooftop scene. But of course, as we all know, nothing good ever comes after that scene, be it depicted in a fanfiction or in the show itself. Be sure to leave a review if you enjoyed, and I'll be back on Thursday with the next chapter!** **A chapter, I might add, that I am quite excited about.**


	14. Path of Stars

**I am painfully excited about this chapter. Seriously, I hope you love it as much as I do. Be warned, there's a short lime in this one. It's nothing serious, but I still wanted to warn in advance. And as always, thanks if you left a review on the last chapter :)**

 **Chapter 14: Path of Stars**

When L awoke the next morning, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Of course, he had no proof that anything was different, but there was a certain feeling in the air, a certain tang he could taste with every breath he took—and it was repulsive. The first thing L noticed was the fact that yet again, he'd ended up sleeping. He suspected that had something to do with the alcohol, but it was still disconcerting to know just how tired he'd been lately. The second thing that was brought to L's attention was the utter lack of noise. When he awoke, slowly pushing himself up against the headboard, the world felt as if it had gone still around him. He couldn't even hear the blood rushing in his ears. The air was stagnant, a strange heat settled thickly on the detective's flesh—and the world felt entirely out of focus, as if he'd just taken off a pair of too-strong glasses.

Matt was on his feet. He was standing next to L's side of the bed, reaching out, clasping both hands to his shoulders. He was shaking him, a concerned look on his face, and L was sure that his lips were moving, that he was trying to say something, but he could hear nothing but the dull hum that was slowly beginning to build in his ears. It wasn't the rush of blood, no—it was something else entirely, something that L could almost relate to radio static. That noise just kept building, and building…growing louder and louder with every passing moment until it reached its apex, screeching endlessly. Matt was saying something again, but his voice sounded as it was rising up through endless fathoms of water. It was distorted, difficult to decipher.

L dimly saw Matt raising a hand, and a moment later he lost track of the appendage as it swung downwards sharply. A dull pain started up in L's cheek. Matt…had hit him? L shook his head, dispelling the stinging sensation. But the third ranked successor, seemingly unwilling to let L rest, swung his hand down a second time and struck him harshly once more. And then, in a single moment, everything was thrown into startling clarity. The hum in his ears faded. Matt's voice returned to its normal sound. The stifling heat lifted.

"L!" Matt was screaming, shaking him harshly. "L, come on! Snap out of it!" The teen raised his hand to strike the detective once more, but in a single heartbeat L's hand shot up, fingers curling around his successor's wrist.

"Matt, what's wrong?" L demanded harshly, chasing the last hints of fog from his mind. "Why did you strike me?"

"It's Light!" Matt gasped. L realized with a start that the successor's goggles were hanging around his neck, and his eyes were wild with fear. His hair was sticking up in odd places, and his clothing appeared disheveled. Even more shocking, his Gameboy had been thrown haphazardly to the floor. An unlit cigarette rested a few feet away, clearly abandoned in haste. "I can't wake him up!"

The words took a moment to register in L's brain. But when they did, he shot up in bed immediately, whirling around to face his lover. To his immediate relief, Light looked almost completely normal—his chest rose and fell at a fixed rate, and his expression was completely serene. But when L reached out a hand to the teen's shoulder, shaking him lightly, he didn't stir. L frowned deeply, shaking him slightly harder. When that failed to awaken him, the detective drew back his hand and delivered a slap to Light's cheek—not at full strength, of course—and received the same response. He was completely unresponsive, showing not even a sign that he could feel what was happening to him in the waking world.

"I've been trying to wake him for ten minutes," Matt explained breathlessly. "When I couldn't get a response, I started trying to get you up instead—but then _you_ wouldn't respond!"

L ignored his successor. Instead, he straddled his lover, leaning close and pulling up one eyelid. "There is a pen light on the desk. Hand it to me immediately." Matt obeyed without a word, and the next moment L was switching the small light on and shining it directly into Light's eye. "Pupil dilation is normal," L murmured, handing the light back to Matt. Breathing appears steady, there are no signs of turmoil…"

"I'm going to call Watari," Matt announced. He was across the room and at the intercom in moments, already making the call.

L stared intensely at Light's sleeping face. What was happening in that head of his? Did this have to do with Kira? "You're going to get through this, Light…" he murmured, carding his fingers through the teen's hair. "Did you hear that? You're going to live. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

The door opened suddenly, and Watari was immediately entering the room with a cart that appeared to be full of medical supplies. Despite the panic beginning to well up within him, L still managed to relay as much as he knew about Light's situation to his old mentor. Watari responded only with a nod, moving to the teen's side and beginning his general check of Light's vitals. After several minutes of moving from test to test, Matt spoke up.

"So…" he began hesitantly. "Is this…normal? Or is it, you know…"

"Kira related?" the inventor finished calmly. "There is no way of telling, I'm afraid. He doesn't appear to be in any distress, but physical tests can only tell us so much—and they can tell us nothing about his mental state. I would suggest restraining him in either case."

That…that sounded exactly like what Near had said the previous day. _If you won't move him from the task force headquarters, then at least restrain him. You have no idea when Kira could take over._ L shuddered at the thought, but he knew that he had to be reasonable. "Very well," he said shortly. "Matt, the chains."

The successor wordlessly retrieved several sets of handcuffs and other such chains, passing them to L. The detective immediately shackled Light to the bed by his wrists and ankles, weary of the IV protruding from the back of his hand. He wound another chain over the teen's chest, linking the two ends to the bedframe, then repeated the action with another chain over Light's thighs. Satisfied that he would be unable to move should he awaken as Kira, L sat back on his haunches and watched Watari finish the final few tests.

"Regrettably, I can see only two causes for this lack of awareness," Watari said at last. "Either this is Kira related, or…" He trailed off.

"Or it's a coma," L finished for him. The full weight of those words hit him a moment later. _It…it's not impossible. He's been through so much, it's entirely plausible that his mind has just…snapped._

"There is one thing we can try," Watari murmured, eyes locked on Light's form.

"Then try it," L insisted. "No matter what it is."

The inventor riffled through his cart, then drew out a tiny, wax-sealed bottle and a syringe. "It will be dangerous, L. If this is Kira related, then we have no way of knowing what sort of chaos we could unleash. We could do irreparable damage to his mind."

L immediately thought back to what Light had told him on the roof. That for as long as he was asleep, Kira was working to consume his mind. That for as long as he was absent from the waking world, terrible things were happening to him. "You're going to shoot him full of adrenaline, correct?" he asked. "Then do it. He _needs_ to wake up."

Matt opened his mouth to protest, but Watari beat him to it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Do it now."

Watari's eyes narrowed slightly, but he complied nonetheless. Slowly, deliberately, he punctured the wax seal of the bottle and withdrew the contents into the syringe. Then he moved to Light's IV and pressed the needle into the correct place, pausing for one last glance to L before he continued. The detective gave a short nod. Frowning deeply, Watari turned his gaze back to the possibly comatose teen and compressed the plunger.

Nothing happened.

Watari announced, "His heart rate has increased. If this is going to work, it's going to work now."

There was a long, agonizing moment of silence in which the only change in Light was the rate at which his chest rose and fell. His features remained relaxed, his whole body limp. For just a heartbeat L felt that dull hum returning to his ears, drowning out the sound of Light's soft breathing. That torturous noise was slowly beginning to drown out the entirety of the outside world.

Then L heard the sound of chains being snapped taut against the metal bedframe, and a hoarse scream sliced through the air, vanquishing that dull hum.

L was back at his lover's side in a heartbeat. "Light!" he yelped, hands soothing over the teen's chest. "Light, can you hear me?"

His eyes were still squeezed shut as his entire body convulsed beneath the chains, pulling at them viciously. Wherever metal met skin, dark bruises were beginning to form, blossoming across too-pale skin. As opposed to just moments ago, the teen's entire form was completely tense, muscles pulled taut beneath his flesh. And then, with a ragged, pained gasp, his eyes shot open.

"Light!" L repeated. "Please, say something!"

For a long moment the teen remained completely silent. His chest heaved painfully as he stared up at the ceiling, and for a frightening moment L thought that maybe, just maybe, those eyes were more scarlet than amber. But the color was gone just as soon as it had entered his eyes, and L's attention was immediately drawn elsewhere as Light slowly turned his head to one side. "L…" he rasped out, a small, charming smile spreading across his face. "What's wrong?"

L leaned in without thinking, kissing his lover with fervor. A heartbeat after his lips met those of Light, he realized that it probably hadn't been a good idea—he would most likely scare the teen out of his wits. But to his surprise, instead of drawing away, Light parted his lips willingly, seemingly uncaring that Matt was staring slack-jawed, while Watari looked away with a polite cough. L would have loved to throw the two observers out of the room and take advantage of Light's sudden submission—but there were more important things at hand, so he drew back, parting himself from his lover with a soft, wet sound. "You scared me," he accused in a flat tone.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

"You…you wouldn't wake up. Was it Kira?"

A strange look flickered across Light's face before he responded. "Yes…I'm terribly sorry, but I was having another nightmare. He wouldn't let me wake up."

Something seemed wrong with that statement. "You didn't appear to be in any pain…" L murmured. "Every other time you've had a nightmare, it's always been the same—you start screaming and crying, and you look as if you're in pain—and then you wake up, and I calm you down. But this time you seemed completely serene…"

Light shrugged. "I can't control what happens to me when I'm sleeping, you know. But putting all that aside, why am I chained to the bed?"

 _Why are you…?_ L frowned deeply. "You are well aware of the impending danger Kira poses, Light. We didn't know what was happening, and we feared that Kira could be about to gain control. We restrained you just in case that was indeed the case." _What's going on? Why did he ask something so obvious?_ L wrote it off as a brief lapse of judgment due to his nightmare.

"Well," Light said, "as you can see, I'm not Kira. So release me at once."

He…he was being uncharacteristically blunt. But still, L stood back and allowed Matt to release the chains, bundling them up and shoving them into a drawer. "We were worried!" Matt exclaimed. "We thought you might have slipped into a coma!"

"I apologize," Light said politely. "I did not mean to cause such trouble for any of you."

"…Right…" L trailed off.

The teen stretched his arms above his head, sighing deeply. The next moment he was pushing himself up, announcing, "Actually, I'm feeling quite a bit better than I have been recently. L, you promised me a day with the task force, didn't you? I think I'd like to go down and work with them."

"Are you sure? You were practically just _comatose,_ Light!" Matt broke in. "It could be dangerous! What if you relapse right there in the middle of the investigation room?"

"I will not relapse. It is over now."

 _It is over now…?_ The frown on L's face deepened. What was wrong with Light? _Perhaps it's just the aftereffects of the adrenaline?_ "If that's what you say…"

Light looked up at L, a charming smile on his face. "Will you remove the IV? I'd like to get dressed. And I'm _starving—_ when was the last time I had the chance to eat?"

"You've been unable to keep down any solid food for a week," L reminded him. "Are you sure you're feeling well enough to—?"

"I told you, I'm feeling a lot better. Please, bring me something to eat?"

L tossed a look over his shoulder at Watari. "Bring something for Light, please. Maybe toast, or a bowl of cereal."

The inventor nodded. "I will leave the three of you alone, then."

The instant the inventor was gone, L removed the IV from Light's hand. The flesh was bruised a dark shade of purple all around the needle, and removing the thing seemed to bring Light great relief. He sighed, rubbing the back of his hand with a smile. "Thank you, Ryu—I mean, L."

A flare of suspicion shot through L's chest.

Light, no doubt seeing the suspicion, laughed. "I'm sorry, it was a slip of the tongue—I'm still a little rattled from that dream, admittedly."

"Right…" L trailed off as Light pushed himself to his feet, a flicker of discomfort on the teen's face.

He raised a hand to his head, and for a moment L thought he was combating the usual headache, until Light chuckled, "You let me drink too much, L. My head is killing me!"

"My apologies. I had no desire to monitor your intake. After all, I wanted you to be thoroughly intoxicated for our conversation."

The teen shrugged it off. "I'm sure I'll feel better once I eat; it's not that bad anyways." He made his way over to the wardrobe, picking out a shirt and changing into it, paying no mind to the fact that Matt was still in the room. He pulled on a pair of slacks and fastened his belt, stooping to slip on his dress shoes. When he stood, his eyes and skin gleamed healthily, and L was hauntingly reminded of the Light he'd known before he lost his memories. He shot a charming smile back in L's direction, saying, "Well? Shall we head down to the kitchen?"

"Watari will bring your food here," L reminded him. "We will wait."

"Aww, L, come on!" Light whined, pouting.

 _What is going on?_ The detective looked over at Matt to see if he was noticing the same irregularities as he was, but the younger male was immersed in his video game once again. He wasn't paying any attention to either of the other two men in the room.

L felt fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, and the next moment Light was kissing him unexpectedly. For a heartbeat he stiffened under those lips. It was unlike Light to initiate such things, _especially_ when someone else was mere feet away…though, then again, he'd just told the detective that he loved him. Perhaps those words had made him more confident. "Hey…" the teen murmured, kissing at L's neck lightly. "Relax. Everything is fine, I promise. Is it a bad thing that I'm feeling better? That I've gained some ground against Kira?"

"No…no, of course not. Forgive me, I'm just a bit paranoid, I suppose."

The corners of Light's lips quirked up in a teasing smile. "I wouldn't have you any other way, L." He turned and headed for the bathroom, no doubt planning to fix up his hair in the usual way—at the moment it was rather tangled, and L knew that there was no way he'd be appearing before the task force without making himself look every inch the perfect individual he thought he was.

L followed him into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning against it as Light immediately went for a brush, beginning to sort out his unruly locks. Just as he'd thought. "Light…" he murmured. He was unable to shove down that twinge of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. "Are you sure you're okay?"

The teen shot him a comforting smile, reaching for a spray bottle and lightly wetting his hair. As he ran his brush through it once again, Light assured, "I promise you, L, I'm completely fine. Like I said, I managed to beat Kira down just a bit, so I'm feeling a whole lot better." He reached for a bottle of mousse and shook it, spraying a bit of the foamy substance into one hand and beginning to apply it to his hair. Eyes never leaving the mirror, he said, "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're suspicious that Kira has won!"

"Well…"

Light sighed deeply, washing his hands off and drying them before turning to face the detective, pulling him into a brief but bone-crushing hug. He kissed him lightly on the forehead, murmuring, "I swear to you, L, that I am perfectly all right." He released the detective and plucked his toothbrush from its perch, applying a bit of toothpaste and beginning to brush his teeth with vigor.

L watched him closely. He appeared completely fine save for the small lapses in behavior, and his eyes were the brightest he'd seen them in a week. Perhaps he was being a bit too judgmental—if Light had indeed made some progress against Kira, then it made sense that he'd be feeling better. _I'm being paranoid,_ L told himself firmly. _There is nothing wrong. If there was, I would know, or he would tell me._

"Are you still worried?" Light asked, having spat out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth out. He set his toothbrush back in place and reached for a washcloth, wetting it and swiftly cleaning his face, which still shone with sweat from the force of his dream. He looked up at L with pleading eyes, eyes so innocent and kind that they couldn't _possibly_ contain anything other than the boy L had fallen in love with. Light reached out, gently placing a hand on the detective's shoulder. "I _love_ you, L. I would never let Kira win. You're not going to have to kill me."

There was a vague feeling of distrust stirring within L's chest, but he forced it back down. _Just less than seven hours ago he was telling me that I would have to kill him soon…but now he's promising that I'll never be forced to do such a thing? I'm probably overthinking this, it's probably nothing more than a sudden burst of confidence brought on by a small victory over Kira—so I should have no problem just casting it aside…right?_

"L…" Light purred, no doubt seeing the detective's failure to erase his doubts. He yanked him closer with one hand, his fingers curling tightly in L's collar. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, lapping at the skin in a manner L hadn't felt for many weeks, not since…since _Beyond._ "If you're so doubtful, then let me _prove_ it to you. Let me prove to you just how much I love you…"

"No…" L murmured in response, though it took every scrap of effort for him to refuse. "You are not yet ready for such a thing…you aren't ready to forget about Beyo—"

Light cut him off with a harsh kiss, muffling the detective's protests. "Don't speak that monster's name," he ordered in a low growl. "Don't remind me of the things he did."

"Light," L insisted, pushing him away, sealing his palm to the teen's chest. "In case you haven't forgotten, Matt is on the other side of this door. And in any case, I have no desire to sleep with you on the floor of the bathroom!"

Light chuckled darkly, lips leaving L's throat just long enough to mutter, "There wouldn't be much sleeping involved."

" _Light._ No." _What's going on? Just last night he was still unwilling to kiss me properly…_

He drew back, lips pursed in a pout. "You're refusing me? You _want_ me, don't you, L? You've been holding yourself back all these days, just because you don't want to hurt me. And now, here I am, offering myself up on a silver platter, and you're saying _no?"_

Well, when he put it like that… _no, stop that! Don't even_ start _having those thoughts!_ "I'm saying not right now," L corrected. His eyes flitted to the door, and he whispered, "Who knows how much Matt could hear? He could be listening in on us right now!"

Light reached past L and flicked on the bathroom fan. It filled the room with a roar that was almost painful, and would no doubt stifle any noise coming from within. "Problem solved." His hands went to L's shirt, and he pulled it up past the detective's chest before he could manage to object.

L immediately clasped his fingers around Light's wrist, pulling him away so that his shirt fell back down over his torso. "What's gotten into you?" he hissed, struggling to ignore the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. "Is this because of what I said last night?"

The teen paused. Then he let out a deep sigh, leaning away. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "It isn't because of what you said, although it did make me think quite a bit." He reached out a hand, sliding two fingers down the side of L's face. "I want to put everything behind me, L. I want to get past all of those things that have made me _distant."_

"Then we can do that later, when we're not in a bathroom, and when Matt isn't on the other side of the door."

There was a fire in Light's eyes, a fire that was almost terrifying. L knew immediately that despite his soft words, he was burning for more contact, for the touch he'd been so resistant to just the night before. "If you aren't willing to go all the way, then at least let me do _this_ …" he trailed off, his hand running sensually down L's clothed front. He scraped his nails lightly at the covered skin of his chest, trailing down until he reached the detective's belt. He leaned in, and in one, powerful motion, slammed his lips against his lover's. L let out a surprised whine, stumbling back in what was most likely an attempt to pull away—but Light was having none of that, and all it took was a short couple of steps for L to be pinned firmly against the wall, helpless to escape even if he wanted to. Which, L reflected, he wasn't sure that he did. With ever passing moment his jeans were becoming tighter and tighter, and he longed for his lover to relieve the pressure.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that bulge in your jeans, L," Light purred, his voice uncharacteristically low. "You've been turning me away all this time, but I know you want this. And even if you won't give me what I want, I'll at least show you what you're missing." His fingers traveled lower, cupping the detective's arousal through the rough denim. L felt himself twitch at the contact, hardening even further. Damn…how was it that Light managed to look so _appealing?_ He'd barely touched him, and yet here he was, responding like a pubescent boy in a heat. Light's wicked fingers broke contact, and the next moment he was undoing L's belt, yanking it none too gently from his form and throwing it to the ground, where it clattered noisily. A heartbeat later L felt Light plucking teasingly at the waistband of his jeans, tugging the button open and pulling the zipper down click by click.

"Light…" L gasped, his whole body tensing as the teen's fingers curled around his belt loops, tugging his jeans down at an agonizingly slow pace, revealing him inch by inch. "Please…if you continue, then Matt will—"

Light ignored him. Instead, he shook his head teasingly, throwing a glance downwards. "You're wearing boxers today, I see. I admit, I'm a bit disappointed." He pushed L's jeans the rest of the way off, and the detective stepped out of them without thinking, barely comprehending what was happening. This alluring, lustful creature…where had he come from? Light seemed to be taking his time, his fingers slipping beneath L's shirt to palm at his chest. His fingers brushed lightly over the detective's peaked nipples, and he could barely contain a loud gasp as Light's fingers closed over them, pinching harshly. L's eyes slipped closed against his will, and he felt blood rushing in his ears. His face felt warm, and he was sure that the rest of him was only getting warmer. Light's flesh felt wonderfully cool against his own, both quelling and fueling the flames that ran beneath his skin. The teen pressed his whole body against L's as he leaned in for a kiss, taking the initiative as his tongue slipped into the other's mouth. That wicked tongue drew against the detective's in long, slow laps, and it did nothing to help the bulge that jutted against Light's lower stomach painfully. The instant he broke contact, Light's lips found the juncture between neck and shoulder, and he was immediately biting teasingly, running his tongue over reddened skin. It was quite reminiscent of what L had done to Light not too long ago, L found himself thinking. But that thought was chased from his mind as Light's mouth was suddenly back on his, dominating him with a fervor L had sampled only once before. And then, in a motion that left L gasping for breath, Light's hand dipped beneath the hem of his boxers, cool fingers gripping him firmly. Immediately, before he could do a thing to stop it, L released a soft moan.

Light's eyes, dark and hooded, locked onto his with amusement as he murmured, "What was that about Matt hearing us?"

L clamped his teeth together immediately, biting his tongue as Light's fingers traced up and down his shaft teasingly. That bastard…he was _trying_ to make L moan! He couldn't care less how much noise he made! "Tease…" he accused breathlessly, and a heartbeat later a satisfied smirk was making its way across Light's features. The teen leaned in and kissed him wordlessly, and the only sounds between the two of them for a long moment were the wet, vulgar sounds of their mouths colliding.

There was a sudden knock at the door. "Hey, guys?" a familiar voice called. "Are you okay? I heard some weird noises, and—"

L immediately lurched away from Light, pressing himself further against the wall as he fought to get his breathing under control. Light, on the other hand, shot a furious glance at the door, his eyes narrowing to sepia slits. He pushed L behind the door as he yanked it open, smiling with false charm at Matt. "Sorry," he apologized, all hints of that terrible anger pushed behind a cheerful gaze. "I was just going to take a quick shower, that's all. Feel free to go down and wait in the kitchen, it'll be a while."

Matt shook his head, clearly unsuspecting. "No, I can't leave this room per L's orders, so I'll have to stay here. But take all the time you need." He held up his Gameboy and pointed to the computer chair on the other side of the room. "I have this to entertain me."

L watched Light's features twist into an expression of casual interest, though below the surface he was obviously dying to have his hands all over the disheveled detective leaning on the wall behind the door. "I'm glad. It should be just a little while." Without waiting for Matt's response, he closed the door and clicked the lock into place. For a long moment he stayed that way, eyes locked on the door as he no doubt waited for Matt to retreat. Then he turned his eyes on L, and the detective was almost frightened by the look swirling within them. It didn't take long for his lips to descend upon the detective's neck vigorously, and he purred out, "Well, L? Shall we take a shower together?"

L immediately shook his head. "No, I told you…" he broke off with a gasp as Light returned his hand to the hem of his boxers, this time shoving the garment down to just below the knees without bothering to remove it entirely. "I'm not going to have sex with you in the bathroom!"

Light shrugged. "Shame." His gaze flickered to L's arousal, which pressed into his stomach with every breath. "It seems like you'd enjoy it." His hand closed around L, and a moment later he was pumping him at a slow, steady pace, with no sign of speeding up. L's lips instantly parted in a breathy moan, but before he'd made more than a moment's worth of noise, Light's free hand closed over his mouth. "Shh…" he hushed. "You don't want Matt to hear, remember?" He removed his hand just long enough to yank the white cotton shirt over L's head, returning the appendage to use as a gag just a moment later. L's face tilted skywards as Light kept up his agonizing pace, teasing him relentlessly with every stroke of his hand. And then there was a warm, wet sensation at his chest, and the detective realized with a loud moan that the teen had latched his mouth over pebbled skin, sucking violently on a nipple, digging his teeth in around the bud. A choked noise escaped his throat, and a moment later Light was chuckling, "You'll have to control yourself, or I'll find a more effective way to gag you."

L turned his head to one side, then the other, desperately trying to hold back the gasping noises that pushed at the backs of his teeth. His whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he thought dimly that if Light didn't increase the speed of those horribly arousing caresses, he would pass out then and there. "Light…" he moaned, his voice barely decipherable due to the iron grip the teen had over his lips.

Light pulled away from L's chest, gazing up at him intensely. "Yes, L? Something you want?"

"S-speed up…"

Light's hand stilled entirely, and L let out a pained whimper. It was incredible just how swiftly the teen had been able to reduce him to this moaning, sweaty mess. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Speed up!" L gasped out. "Please, Light, don't stop!"

The teen's eyes glittered with satisfaction. "I don't know, L, you were awfully against this from the beginning…perhaps you were right, and I should stop now."

L raised one of his hands, both of which had been previously braced against the wall, and reached out, yanking Light towards him. The teen dropped his hand from L's mouth, and the next moment the two were engaged in another sloppy kiss, L barely able to think through the heat of Light's mouth on his. "Please…" he repeated breathily. "Please, keep going…"

Light's smirk was nothing short of malicious. "Well, if you're sure…" He returned his hand to L's arousal, resuming his agonizingly slow pace. The other hand, rather than returning to L's mouth, curled around the detective's lower back and drew him closer, pulling him just slightly away from the wall. His head snapped forward, and his teeth sank deeply into L's shoulder until he felt blood dripping down his flesh. _He's never bitten me before…_ The thought was chased from his mind as Light's hand gripped harder, stroked faster, tugging him closer and closer to completion.

"Ahh…" L whimpered, unable to hold back the noise. "Light!"

The teen smirked against his flesh and continued with that violent pace, each stroke growing swifter and swifter, his hand gripping him tighter and tighter until the friction became nearly unbearable. "Come for me…" he whispered, tongue darting out to lap at the bite on L's shoulder. "Go on, L…"

The detective whimpered, arms darting up to wrap around Light as if he were a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. That coil of heat was growing stronger and stronger, building to almost painful levels—and then Light twisted his wrist in _just_ the right way, and L came with a barely concealed screech. That coil of heat melted out of him, and he felt his body sag against his lover's even as that hand continued until every last drop of release had been coaxed out of him.

"L…" Light purred, bringing his dirtied hand up and caressing the detective's jaw. L felt his own release streak along his flesh wherever the teen touched, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. The teen kissed him again, this time restraining himself to just a gentle press of lips.

L steadied himself against the wall. "Light," he rasped out breathlessly. "That was…"

The teen silenced him with another press of lips. "Be silent," he purred in a low tone.

L's eyes flitted down his lover's form, and it didn't take him long to realize that Light was in a much worse condition than he was. "You're hard," he murmured against those swollen lips. "Do you want me to…?"

L felt Light smile against him, felt the small shake of his head. "This was about _you,_ L."

Something about the way he said that made all of the detective's doubts come rushing back. But he choked them back down, as he had before, telling himself that he was insane—if Light were really Kira at this very moment, there was no way that he would have been able to bring himself to touch L in such an intimate way. L insisted, "I should really—"

"No." Light pulled away slowly, sitting L down on the toilet seat as he reached for the shower and turned it on with a click. "All I need is a bit of cold water. I'll be fine. All you'll have to do is make it up to me later." He offered the detective a gentle smile, barely concealing the fading hints of sepia fire. A moment later he was stripping and getting into the shower, calling back to L, "You should wash up too."

Slowly, the detective pushed himself to his feet and stepped into the shower after his lover, feeling a dull flicker of amusement that for all his protesting, he'd ended up showering with Light just the same—though not quite in the way the teen must have been hoping. The detective shot Light a backwards glance, carefully examining the expression on his face. He knew that he had to be wrong, that there wasn't anything wrong with his lover—but he couldn't stop the sickening doubt that just seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment. _There's no way…_ L thought, disturbed. _I must be wrong._

And yet something in L's gut told him that there was something terribly, irrefutably wrong about today.

†††

L tapped his fingers against his desk rhythmically, entirely lost in thought. He kept playing over the events of that morning, going back over them time and time again in an attempt to rationalize what had happened. But no matter how many times he puzzled over the events, no matter how many times he examined them from every which angle, he couldn't bring himself to draw a conclusion. _Perhaps he's just getting better, as he stated,_ L thought, shooting a sideways glance at his was sitting in the chair beside him, eagerly typing away at whatever document he was working on currently. When he'd entered the investigation room, he'd been greeted by the eager members of the task force, each one welcoming him back with vigor. After not having seen the teen in so long, they seemed eager to speak to him once more, to wish him well and carefully skirt around the topic on everyone's mind—Beyond Birthday. Matsuda in particular seemed pleased to have the youngest member of the task force back on hand—he'd always been a sentimental idiot, and this was just another opportunity for him to get overly excited about something. After pleasantries had been exchanged, Light had happily settled down into his usual seat, not bothering to ask L any questions about the case before getting started. There was a certain gleam in his eye today, one that spoke of a definite goal he wanted to accomplish. He threw himself into his work with intense focus, not looking up for even a minute as he scrolled through file after file, compiled pages upon pages of information.

The whole time, Mello, Matt, and Near were huddled off to one side, whispers flying back and forth. No doubt Matt was recounting the events of that morning. L half expected Mello to confront him then and there about L's decision to let Light return to the task force for even a day. Or if not him, then Near, or even Matt. But none of the successors came near Light, instead choosing to stand back. They watched the teen unnervingly, and their stares were even beginning to affect even L, who was not, in fact, the object of their scrutiny.

Finally, a few hours after L sat down to work, Mello called him over to him with a few snapped words. "L! Get your ass over here!"

The rest of the task force looked over with irritated glances, no doubt silently rebuking the use of vulgar language in the investigation room. L's attention was drawn to Light in particular, who shot a calculating look in the successors' direction. Frowning, the detective pushed himself to his feet, throwing another glance at Light, whose eyes had snapped back to his monitor. He showed no sign of looking away again. Satisfied that the teen wouldn't be going anywhere, L slowly made his way over to the three younger males huddled in the corner.

"What?" L murmured once he'd reached his successors. "What is it?"

"What's this we hear about Light's little lapse this morning?" Mello demanded harshly.

L had been expecting this. But quite honestly, he'd been expecting it sooner. "He wouldn't wake up. Watari managed to bring him back to awareness. That is all that happened."

"Do you really believe that?" Mello demanded. "That he just woke up all of the sudden and felt completely better?"

"Well…he mentioned gaining some ground in his fight against Kira, so…"

"L, come on!" Mello went on. "The kid was barely breathing yesterday! And then he's suddenly eating and drinking normally, and he's regained all his energy? You don't find that the least bit suspicious?"

"Not particularly, no."

There was the sound of a chair turning, and Light suddenly called out, "Ryuzaki, are you okay? Is everything well over there?"

For just a heartbeat L was stricken with the realization that once again, Light had forgotten to call him L—but then he mentally kicked himself. _Of course he's calling me Ryuzaki, we're in the investigation room! I specifically told him to call me by my pseudonym when the others were around!_ He responded belatedly, calling back, "Yes, Light. Nothing is wrong, I assure you."

Mello snorted, muttering, "Like hell nothing's wrong."

L turned on him furiously, eyes blazing. " _There is nothing_ _wrong_! I have judged him as physically and mentally functional, and my judgments are never wrong! I have deemed him capable of working alongside us for today, and so here he will stay! Is that understood?"

Near shook his head, twirling a lock of white hair between his fingers. "You are behaving foolishly. After such a lapse as the one he had this morning, it was indescribably asinine to allow him to appear before the task force. If Kira overwhelms him, then he could bring harm to us all. Or, if Light remains Light, he could just as easily tell the task force that he is Kira—or at the very least, is possessed by him—and that's all it would take for them to call for his death. Quite honestly I'm stunned that you even considered the idea of bringing him here. It's very unlike you."

"Yeah," Mello broke in. "Seriously, L, you're acting like a moron. The best thing to do now would be to take him back to your room before anything happens."

"No, I can't do that…he's _fine_ …" L insisted. "There's nothing wrong with him. He's not going to tell them anything, and even if he does, we'll just have to talk our way out of it. I'm sure that with the right words the task force could be persuaded, if it was to come to that." As he spoke he looked back at Light. The teen was still working away quietly, mimicking the behavior of the rest of the task force. _He…he_ is _okay…_ L thought doubtfully. _He's not any closer to succumbing to Kira…right?_ Even as he puzzled over it, L's mind clouded with suspicion. The way he'd acted this morning…it hadn't been normal.

Mello seemed to pick up on the doubt in L's heart. "Listen to me, L. If you have even the smallest suspicion that that boy over there isn't Light, then you'll take him back to your room and restrain him."

Near broke in, adding, "Not just that, you'll take him far, far away from this place. You'll make sure he's somewhere he can never escape, and you'll keep him there until you find a way to cure him."

"You mean _kill_ him," L snarled. "You said the same thing a few nights ago; don't think I didn't see right through it! You're planning to make me take him somewhere remote, then wait things out until I realize I can't possibly keep him alive! After that, you'll kill him, won't you? Isn't that what you're planning?"

"You're delusional!" Near hissed.

"I am _correct!_ " L spat.

Near rolled his eyes, ready to snap back a retort, but Mello beat him to it. "You at least brought the gun, right? You at least brought _some_ protection against the possible homicidal maniac sitting over there?"

L hissed, "Of course I did! I'm not an idiot!" His hand shot to his belt, where he'd holstered his gun before leaving the bedroom. He'd made it a habit of keeping it on him whenever he left his room, and today was no exception. But to his surprise, his fingers met nothing but the cool leather of his belt. He frowned, checking again, but was met with the same result. His gun…it wasn't there.

"What? What is it?" Mello demanded.

"I…I don't have my gun."

" _What?"_ Mello spat. "What do you mean you don't have it? Today is the one day that you _have to have the damn thing on you_ , and you're telling me you left it in the bedroom?"

"No, no! I know that I took if from the desk and tucked it in my belt, just as I always do. But it's not here now!"

Light's voice sounded again, breaking into the conversation from across the room. "Matt, I'm sorry to bother you, but do you think you can come over here for a moment?"

The third ranked successor, who had been following the conversation between L and his two friends with a stunned expression, snapped his head up at the sound of Light's voice. An easy smile spread across his face, and he nodded. "Of course, Light!" L noted vaguely that Matt had become quite close to Light over the past couple of days, despite the age difference and the fact that they had virtually nothing in common. _It's nice that he has someone else to talk to,_ L thought. _Other than me, I mean._ Matt headed off in Light's direction, neither Mello nor Near noticing his departure.

"L, seriously," Near chastised. "You can't make mistakes like this! Where could you have put it down?"

"That's the thing…" L murmured. "…I didn't."

Mello rolled his eyes. "Well, you must have, you dolt! Guns don't just disappear into thin air! Seriously, you're so blinded by your love for Light that you haven't been taking the necessary precautions! As much as you don't want to believe it, he's not getting any better, no matter what he may say or how he may act. With every passing day he's becoming more and more of a danger to everyone around him, and yet you do _nothing_ but sit there and mope! You've got to come to your senses, L, no matter how much you want to curl up and forget about the fact that the guy you love is Kira!"

Near nodded his agreement, adding, "I've told you, L, the safest thing to do would be to move him to a deserted place, but you insist upon refusing me. Why do you do such a thing if you know you are only putting everyone in more danger by allowing Light to stay here? You've been letting your emotions get in the way of work, and quite frankly I'm not sure you're still capable of functioning as L."

L recoiled as the harsh words met his ears, unable to fabricate a response.

Near went on. "As is such, I'm not entirely sure you were at your top capacity when you judged Light as _himself_ this morning. Think about it logically—he's been deteriorating for days, and then he suddenly wakes up good as new after slipping into what very well could have been the beginnings of some sort of coma? Think carefully, L, and tell me—did he do or say anything uncharacteristic?"

L didn't have to think hard. Light had done several uncharacteristic things, namely _everything_ that had gone on in the bathroom, but he'd written them off as insignificant. "Actually, there were several things. He…he called me Ryuzaki. He only does that when we're in the presence of the task force, and sometimes not even then. He ordered me around as well, and said several things that were quite uncharacteristic." _What makes things stranger is that he's been quite resistant to touch as of late, and then he goes off and pulls something like_ that _…maybe something_ is _going on…_

"So in other words, not only did he awaken with mysterious energy, but he acted completely unlike himself, and you still let him come here and work? Are you completely _insane_?" Mello hissed under his breath, shooting a nervous glance in Light's direction.

When Mello put it that way, it did sound insane. "I thought—I just thought that—!"

Mello shook his head angrily. "That's it, L. We're taking authority on this. We're going to restrain him and take him back to your room, by force if we have to. And first thing after that we're going to order Watari to find us a private island and purchase it. We'll take Light out there and wait this whole thing out, whether it ends in his death or not." The blonde successor looked to Near for his approval.

"Yes," Near murmured. "I believe that would be the best course of action. You are being irresponsible, L. You are no longer equipped to decide what will happen to Light. If you can't hold on to your gun, then you don't deserve to hold on to the Kira suspect."

L opened his mouth to protest, but Near cut him off. "L, please. You know that we are right. I promise you that Light will not be harmed until we are certain there is no other alternative. And if it comes to that, we will at least inform you that we are about to kill him."

The detective hesitated. They were right…he knew that they were. Light was unstable, and he'd been a fool to let him come to the investigation room. "…Yes," he whispered at last. "You are right, of course. We will move him back to my room and restrain him now. It is entirely possible that he is close to succumbing to Kira." L turned back to Light, who was speaking to Matt with a charming smile on his face. L trailed behind Near and Mello as they approached the teen.

"Light," Near said upon reaching him. "I apologize for this, but we will have to remove you from the investigation room at once. We believe that you are unstable."

The teen's eyes widened, displaying a genuine look of surprise. "What? You think I'm unstable?"

The first ranked successor nodded gravely. "L reported unusual behavior, and after your little episode this morning we believe it would be best to restrain and relocate you."

Light's brow furrowed. "What are you suggesting, Near? That I'm in danger of becoming Kira?"

"No. To be honest, I'm suggesting that you already _are_ Kira." The successor leaned down suddenly, clasping a hand to the armrest of Light's chair and leaning in so that Light was forced to press himself back to avoid smashing his forehead into Near's. "What do you have to say to that, Light?"

The teen's mouth opened and closed a few times in mute surprise. Then he spluttered out, "That's completely ridiculous! I'm not Kira, I swear!"

The noise was beginning to attract the attention of the task force, though they couldn't quite hear the words the geniuses were speaking.

"Then explain what happened this morning."

"I told you, I was fighting Kira, and he wouldn't let me wake up! I lost a lot of ground, and I was in a lot of pain—"

"No," L said suddenly. "No, that's wrong."

Light stared up at the detective, and if L hadn't known better, he would have said that those irises were _scarlet._ "Just what do you mean by that, Ryuzaki? I told you this morning—"

"You told me this morning that you gained ground," L said softly. "You said that you were doing better against Kira. Light…what is the truth? Why did you lie?"

The teen stared uneasily at his shoes. "Okay…I admit, I lied. But it was only because I didn't want to make you think that I was doing worse!"

L shook his head. Something was wrong here. Something was… _off_. "But if you lost so much ground, why did you wake up rejuvenated? You were…you were a completely different person…"

Light stared up at him with wide eyes, his expression one of practiced innocence. "Well, that's because…" he trailed off, streaks of pain swimming through his irises. "L, please, let this go! I _love_ you, why are you doing this?"

It wasn't true. Those words were false, L could feel it. His lover's voice was carefully controlled, with just the right amount of desperation, just the right amount of love. His tone…it was _calculated,_ as if he'd composed it just to get into L's head. "Light…" he whispered. "Please, answer the question."

"I…" Light trailed off, fighting for words. "L, I swear…" Once again he trailed off. His eyes flitted from L to the successors, his expression pleading. But neither parties faltered in their interrogation, staring him down with calculating eyes. Light seemed to be grasping at strings, struggling to explain himself. He slowly appeared to realize, his gaze still flickering between his observers, that he wouldn't be getting away without an explanation. And with that realization, his entire demeanor seemed to completely change. First, his expression went completely lax, all hints of desperation melting off him like wax from a candle. Next, his eyes narrowed. And then, slowly, like a monster shedding a human disguise, a nasty leer spread across the teen's face. His eyes glimmered, and this time L was _sure_ that they were a deep, muddy scarlet. His entire face was shrouded in a dark shadow that seemed to come from nowhere; his hands clawed into the armrests of his chair. He glared up at L with a vengeance, and the pure hatred behind that stare was enough to make not only L, but Near back away in horror. "What a nuisance," he growled dangerously. "It looks like I've been found out…isn't that right, L?"

In a single moment, many things happened.

Mello was holding a gun in his hand in an instant, screaming, " _Freeze, monster!"_

Matt was staring, frozen, at the scarlet-eyed teen.

Near was recoiling, retreating behind Mello.

L was staring slack-jawed at the being who was supposed to be his lover.

Light—no, _Kira,_ was shooting to his feet despite Mello's orders, locking an arm around Matt's throat and drawing him close, using him as a human shield. That alone could have been dealt with, but what happened next changed everything. "Oh, L…" Kira purred. "Didn't you wonder where your gun went?"

L's blood ran cold.

"That's right! You were so focused on our little escapade this morning that you didn't even notice me _steal it from you_." There was a slight flurry of movement, and the next moment the barrel of a gun was pressed to Matt's temple, the safety released.

"Matt!" Mello cried out. "Kira, you bastard, _let him go!_ "

The third ranked successor swallowed hard, visibly trembling. "I-it's okay, Mells…" he forced out, smiling falsely. "Everything's going to be o-okay…"

"Light!" Soichiro snapped from across the room. L's attention was drawn to the task force, and he saw that all four members had risen to their feet, and were staring at Kira with matching expressions of horror. "Light, just what do you think you're doing? Drop that gun immediately!"

Kira looked over at the man, a lazy smile on his face. "Sorry, dearest _father_ , but I'm not your son."

Soichiro's eyes widened impossibly, and he sputtered, "What do you mean? You are Light Yagami, and you are my son! Now obey me and put down that gun at once!"

Kira clicked his tongue in a painfully chastising manner. "Now, now, let's not be hasty here. As you can see, I hold all the cards."

"You hold nothing!" Mello snarled. "If you don't release Matt at once, I'll shoot you!"

"No you won't. If you shoot me, then you might hit Matt—and if you _don't_ hit Matt, and hit me instead, then I assure you that I'll have pulled the trigger long before he can get away from me. He'll _die,_ Mello. Are you prepared to see that? Are you prepared to see his pretty little eyes slip closed, his brains splattered across the floor?"

" _Monster!_ " Mello screeched, finger tensing on the trigger slightly. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Light…" Soichiro tried again. "What is the meaning of this?"

Kira ignored him. "I have a little request, L."

The detective barely heard the words. He was too busy staring up at Kira, staring up at the monster that had replaced the man he loved. There was no way…no way that Kira had just taken over. No way that Light was gone forever.

"What is it?" Kira purred in a dark, sultry tone. "Can't believe that I've won?" He bared his teeth in something akin to a smile, snarling out, "Do you want to know what's worse? It happened before I woke up this morning. And you know what that means, don't you?"

L knew exactly what that meant. The way the teen had been behaving…his harsh orders, his chastising words…the incident in the bathroom…it had all been Kira. But why? Why would he do such a thing? If there was one thing L knew, it was that Kira was not attracted to him. He loathed him, wanted to kill him. So why had he done such a thing?

Kira smirked, seeming to read the thoughts behind L's obsidian orbs. "I told you, L…I told you, _this is all about you._ And I wasn't lying—it _was_ all about you—all about _dominating_ you, all about seeing you writhe beneath me…I derived no pleasure from the situation save for what I felt knowing that I had reduced you to a weak, shivering, _mess._ And _you…_ you thought I wanted your filthy fingers on me. The very thought is _repulsive."_

L's stomach twisted painfully.

"I'll be honest with you," Kira continued. "When I accidentally called you Ryuzaki, I thought it was over. But you were just stupid enough to let it go…and then all I had to do was perform my little dance, do a little _seducing_ , and you were mine." He broke off, barking out a dark laugh. "Now…" he went on. "I know you keep a few sets of handcuffs in that little drawer of yours. You're going to cuff each member of the task force to their desks, far enough apart so they can't reach each other, and you're going to do it _well._ Because if you don't…" Kira pressed the barrel of the gun harder against Matt's temple, making the successor wince. "Well, I'm sure it goes without saying that you'll be cleaning splatters of your precious successor off the walls for _weeks."_

L felt his body move against his will. Without thinking, he was stepping over to his desk, retrieving the chains he kept there, moving to the members of the task force and cuffing them in place one by one. They didn't resist, thankfully—although they didn't know what was really happening, they at least had the common sense to realize that Kira was being serious. He had every intention of killing Matt. The only one who resisted even a bit was Soichiro—he tried to move towards his son, a painfully confused look in his eye.

"Son!" he called out, gaze never leaving the teen. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Kira looked over at Soichiro, his eyes gleaming crimson. "Because I am Kira."

" _What?"_ Soichiro gasped, expression comically surprised. "You…you can't be! Son, what are you saying?"

"Be silent, you old fool!" Kira spat. "I have no desire to listen to your exclamations of disbelief! There are things that must be done!"

L finished cuffing Matsuda to his desk and moved away from him slowly, facing Kira with blank eyes and an even blanker heart. He felt nothing. He _could_ feel nothing.

"Excellent. Now, L, you're going to do the same to Near."

L obeyed without a word, and Near did little to resist. Their hands were tied—Kira would without a doubt murder his captive at the drop of a hat.

"Good, good… now, Mello, you're going to drop your gun."

"No!" the successor snarled. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm doing that! The instant I do, you can just shoot Matt! You'll have no reason to spare him!"

"You'll do it anyways. Because if you don't, then I'll kill him."

"If you kill him, you'll have no captive!"

Kira shook his head mockingly. "But Matt will be dead. You can kill me in return, of course, but I doubt that's what you will choose to do. It's better to drop your weapon now and gamble on the off chance that when this is over, I _won't_ murder him."

Mello's grip tightened on the gun, and it was clear that he had no intention of releasing it.

Matt, who had kept surprisingly silent throughout the whole ordeal, spoke up. "Mells…do as he says."

Mello's eyes snapped to his lover. "Matt, no!"

"Please…please, Mello…you're not going to accomplish anything. Drop your gun."

Mello stared for a moment longer. A terrible conflict brewed just below the surface of that cream-colored skin as he stared at the younger male held captive, his fingers tightening further on the handle of his weapon. He swallowed hard, the sound louder than it should have been. Then, slowly, he clicked the safety back on and let the gun drop to the ground, the weapon striking the tiled floor with a note of finality. He raised his hands reluctantly, eyes never leaving his lover as he stepped away from the gun.

Kira cackled. "Chain him, L."

The detective obeyed blindly.

A nasty grin spread across Kira's face. He looked up to one of the many security cameras, calling out, "Watari, I know you're watching this. And I want you to know that if you try anything, I won't just kill Matt—I'll shoot the entire task force where they stand—and that includes L. Understand?"

There was no response, but L knew that Watari had gotten the message. He wouldn't try anything, not with one of his orphans' lives on the line.

Kira turned his attention back on L. "Now…" he purred. "Where were we?"

"You…" L broke off, his voice cracking embarrassingly. "You were going to kill me, weren't you?"

Kira looked genuinely surprised at that. "Kill you? Why yes, I believe that's what I wanted to do. But…not like this. You see, L, what exists between the two of us…it's a _game._ What I did to you this morning—what you _let_ me do to you—was just another part of that wicked game. And as fun as it would be to raise this gun to your pretty little head and pull the trigger, I don't want to win the game until I've beaten you into the ground. Right now, you still have a fighting spirit, even if it's stricken down a bit at the moment. Once I _crush_ that spirit, once I _dominate_ you entirely…then it will be over. Then is when I will have won, and then is when I will kill you, be it with the Death Note or with my bare hands, or even with a gun like this one."

"What do you want?" L kept his voice flat. It wasn't difficult—the reality of the situation had yet to sink in; he was still deceptively numb.

"I want my Death Note. You know where it is and how to get to it. So here's what's going to happen—we're going to head on down to the vault, and you're going to give it to me. And then you're going to let me walk out of here, because if you don't…well, you know what happens."

L rasped, "You would kill an innocent person, Kira?" Of course he would. L knew this with startling certainty. "You would lower yourself to the title of common murderer?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kira whispered. "I am a _god_ , a deliverer of justice…I do not kill innocents. But those who get in my way, those who would oppose me… _they_ are not innocent. They are vermin, and they deserve to die."

L dimly heard Mello let out a vicious snarl.

Kira's expression melted into one of mocking pity. "Poor, poor L…I know how much this must be hurting you. You loved your little toy so much, and to have him yanked away so suddenly…and right after he told you that he loved you, too! I can't _imagine_ the anguish you must feel."

L's stomach clenched, and for a moment he thought he would throw up.

"Now…" Kira purred. "Let's go get my Death Note, shall we?" He moved forward, keeping Matt close, the barrel of the gun never leaving the successor's temple. Matt was obviously terrified—his skin was a sickly white, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming off what was visible of his skin. His eyes flitted desperately to Mello as Kira forced him past, but he said nothing. The next moment Kira was motioning for L to go ahead of him, to lead the way to the weaponry and corresponding vault.

L wasn't well enough to retain awareness for the journey. His mind had seemingly checked out, and it wasn't until they were standing in the weaponry that he realized Kira was speaking to him.

He nudged L towards the vault standing in the back of the room, snarling, "Go on. Open it."

L didn't resist. He felt shell-shocked, as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him, but continuously. He moved as if in a dream, reaching for the keypad and entering in the code. The door clicked open.

"Now retrieve the notebook and give it to me."

L plucked the Death Note from its place inside the vault and turned away, not bothering to close the door as he handed it to the man who was supposed to be his lover. Kira immediately tucked it under his shirt, the gun never dipping lower than Matt's temple.

"Thank you, dearest," Kira purred. "You've been a great help."

They were moving again, Kira forcing L to step in front of him, and once again L's mind was unable to grasp the reality of what was happening. They were back in the investigation room in what felt like moments, the ground warping deceptively beneath the detective's feet.

Kira praised mockingly, "You've done well, L. There's only one last thing I need you to do—take that pair of handcuffs and bind yourself to your desk so you can't follow me.

Once again, there seemed to be nothing L could to do fight his own body's movements. He cuffed himself to his desk wordlessly, tugging in demonstration to show that he could not escape.

"Excellent," Kira murmured. "I expect Watari will release the lot of you once I've fled." He steadily maneuvered Matt over to the desk in the far corner, the one beside the door, and in a single moment had him helplessly bound like all the others. Kira turned his back to the task force as he worked, making sure Matt's arms were useless.

L caught a glimpse of movement. His eyes locked onto Aizawa. The man had pulled himself free! _But how…?_ L's searching gaze found a small tube of hand lotion propped up against the computer beside Aizawa. He must have used the stuff as lubrication to slip his hand from the cuff! _Don't do anything stupid…_ L begged silently, and he could tell that the rest of the task force was urging him on similarly. _There's nothing you can do, Aizawa. Please, don't take any action you'll regret._

Aizawa was moving. Kira's back was still turned. L longed to call out, to order him to stop—but it would amount to nothing. If Kira turned and saw that Aizawa had escaped, he would shoot Matt, then kill the member of the task force. If L spoke, if he said even a word, he would be condemning his friend to death.

The rest of the beings in the room seemed to have the same thought. The space buzzed with nervous energy, each person longing to stop Aizawa before something happened, but none of them were able to say anything, lest both Aizawa and Matt be killed on the spot.

Aizawa was almost to Kira. His feet landed on the ground gently, the sound inaudible in the large room. Just a few more feet, a few more steps…and then, disaster struck.

Without turning around, Kira spoke. "Tell me, Aizawa, do you think I'm a fool? Did you really think I hadn't noticed that you'd escaped?"

The member of the task force froze, mouth hanging open.

"At the very least you should have grabbed Mello's gun. I left it on the ground just for you, after all." The teen's tone was mocking and chastising at the same time. "It's too bad you weren't a little smarter…but then again, you've always been a bit slow. You know what happens now, don't you?"

Aizawa was clearly about to respond, perhaps with pleading words. But Kira didn't give him the chance.

With one, swift movement, Kira whirled around and shot Aizawa through the head.

The gunshot echoed around the room hollowly, the tone harsh and deadly. A heartbeat later, Aizawa crumped to the ground, dead. Blood dripped from the wound in his head, pooling around him sickeningly. L briefly registered the fact that the computer screen beside him had shattered, the glass littering the ground beneath his feet. The gun was so powerful—or Aizawa's skull had offered so little resistance—that the bullet had traveled right through to shatter the screen, inches from his own head.

"I warned you," Kira sighed. He turned back around, his gaze locking on Matt. He addressed L without making eye contact, announcing, "I warned you, L. I warned you that if anyone escaped, I would kill Matt. Aizawa meant nothing to me, and even less to you, but Matt…losing him will be quite a blow." The teen raised the gun to the successor's head in slow motion. Even from across the room, L could hear Matt's shallow breaths, rasping in and out fearfully. He would never show it in more than a few subtle motions, but he was terrified. He was terrified of death.

"Kira!" Mello screeched, thrashing desperately to free himself. "No, please!" It was the first time L had ever heard Mello use such a pleading tone. "Please, let him go! Don't do this!"

The gun was pressed flush with the center of Matt's forehead. "Sorry," Kira purred. "But I made a promise to L." His finger tensed on the trigger. A smirk was clearly visible on his twisted face, and L realized with dull horror that he was _enjoying_ this—was enjoying Matt's pain. Kira's finger tensed further. And a moment later, he compressed the trigger completely.

L waited for the shot to echo throughout the room, waited for Matt's body to slump to the ground, supported only by the chain binding him to his desk.

But nothing happened. No sound broke the deadly silence.

Kira frowned, pulling the trigger again, then again. He whipped the gun away suddenly and checked the clip. His eyes found L's a moment later, an exasperated expression on his face. "Really, L?" he spat. "One bullet in the whole clip?"

Relief flowed through the detective, sharp and sweet—though he barely felt it over the horror of what had just nearly been allowed to happen. If he'd been more careful, if he'd loaded the gun properly, then Matt would be dead.

Kira's eyes fell upon Mello's gun, the one cast onto the ground, the one that would certainly have more than one bullet within—and L immediately begged Kira silently to walk way, to leave that gun behind.

The murderer narrowed his eyes at L, no doubt receiving his message. "I'd love to kill him," he said slowly, carefully. "But this is to be a game between us, L. And if I kill him, then I suppose I'll be giving myself the advantage. So you're in luck. I will not kill him. Not yet. But the next time we meet…" Kira's fingers clutched Matt's jaw harshly, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. "I will make sure that my gun is loaded _properly_."

With that, Kira turned away from Matt. He tossed the useless gun over his shoulder and withdrew the Death Note, beginning to aimlessly riffle through the pages as he walked. It only took two steps, three steps, four, until he was out of sight.

The instant he was gone, L slid down the desk and dropped to his knees, barely registering the fact that he was kneeling in glass. Light…Light was gone. The only man he'd ever loved had just been swallowed up by a murderer. The reality had yet to set in…his entire body felt numb, and that same dull hum from that morning was beginning to fill his ears painfully.

 _Light…what do I do now?_

†††

"Stop scratching away in there!" Kira spat, smacking himself in the head with an open palm. It would do no good, of course, but it still made him feel better to think that he was causing Light at least _some_ pain. The teen was almost completely subdued, but there were still flickers of resistance—flickers that had been especially strong right after shooting Aizawa. Kira held up his fingers before his eyes, rubbing them together, smearing sticky blood between them. The task force member's blood was spattered all over him from their little encounter, and Kira found it both disgusting and enthralling. No doubt the person he was here to see would enjoy it.

Kira slowed his pace as he looked around himself, taking in his surroundings. He was in a bad part of town, that was for sure. He had taken a taxi about a half hour out of headquarters, and had ended up in this area. It befitted this person, the person he had come so far for. The person who had made all of this possible.

Everything around him was dark. It was nighttime now, it having been hours since he left headquarters. He had no doubt that by now L had people searching for him, but it would be useless. They would not find him. Kira's dress shoes clicked over the dirty stone road as he trudged towards the tiny apartment complex at the very end of the street. The walls of the buildings he passed were covered in graffiti; the alleyways held repulsively overflowing dumpsters and equally repulsive criminals. He would have loved to stop and judge those criminals, but he had somewhere he needed to be. His destination was so close…the Strawberry Inn. It was horribly named, seeing as it was not an inn, but an apartment complex. But besides the error in the name, it was perfect. Perfectly subtle, perfectly hidden from the outside world. The tiny group of apartments contained one person, and one person alone. As far as he could tell, that one person was the apartment's first tenant in months. It was a wonder the place was still open with so few people willing to stay there. Although, Kira knew, the people in this area had to be quite desperate for anything of monetary value. If they thought they could rent out a cheap apartment and be given enough money to buy basic life necessities, they would no doubt keep such a dark, dingy place open for as long as they could.

"Hey, beautiful…" a nasty voice sounded behind him.

Kira stopped immediately, fingers gripping the Death Note. He was directly in front of the Strawberry Inn now, just feet from accomplishing his goal. The scum behind him would not change that. "Leave now and I will not kill you," Kira snarled in a low tone.

The man—at least, Kira assumed it was a man from the tone of voice, cackled. "I don't think so, darling. What's a pretty thing like you doing walking out here all alone at night?"

"I am not alone."

"Funny, you look pretty alone to _me…_ "

The sound of footsteps filled the air, and the next moment Kira felt that man's hand on his shoulder. A feeling of disgust filled him, and he wanted nothing more than to judge the man for his filthy intentions. _As if someone as disgusting as you will be allowed to touch_ me _._ The man whirled him around, and Kira found himself staring up at an older man, perhaps in his late twenties, with dirty brown hair and blazing green eyes. Disgusting…he was no better than a street rat. No, he _was_ a street rat.

"Whadya say we check into this little hotel and have some fun?" the man purred, one hand darting up and gripping Kira's jaw.

 _How revolting,_ Kira thought, lips curling nastily into a sneer _. This is why I became who I am in the first place. It was because of people like this, the vermin of the world._ "Unhand me," he ordered coolly. "I find you repulsive."

The man laughed loudly. "I don't think you're in any position to order me around, princess."

The next thing Kira knew he was being pinned against the wall of the building across from the Strawberry Inn, the man's disgusting hands gripping his shoulders.

'This is the last time I'll warn you," Kira snarled. "Release me."

Of course, as vermin of this sort were bound to do, the man paid no heed to Kira's warning. He leaned in, his breath reeking of alcohol, clearly intending to kiss him. And after that, Kira had quite a grasp of where his mind was headed.

 _Crack!_

The hollow sound of a gunshot rang through the tiny street. A moment later Kira felt warm blood on his face, and the repulsive man's eyes had gone completely wide. He slumped against Kira a heartbeat later, and it took a mere moment for his form to crash to the ground. A large red stain was spreading across the man's back, flowering outwards in a fashion that was horrifyingly beautiful.

"I warned you," Kira snarled, nudging the man with the toe of his shoe. He spat furiously at the sight of his convulsing form, stepping over the man's body without a second glance. No one would miss vermin like _him,_ he was sure. He raised his chin, glaring into the shadows on the other side of the street. The shadows, he knew, where that bullet had emerged. Growling, Kira snapped out furiously, "It took you long enough!" He moved to take another step forward, but the gun cracked again, and Kira felt the fabric of his shirt tear, felt a small wound slice itself into the outer edge of his left shoulder. His eyes narrowed, one hand rising to stem the light flow of blood. It wasn't a deep cut, but it stung sharply. Baring his teeth, Kira snarled, "You're not a very good shot with your left hand. Don't tell me L permanently damaged your right!"

The figure, the one standing opposite Kira on the other side of the street, the one almost completely submerged in shadow, sneered nastily, still holding his gun out threateningly. "How did you find me? Where is your little detective?"

Kira smirked, eyes narrowing. "You're not so clever. All it took was a few minutes of research at headquarters, and it was more than easy to track you down. Next time you go into hiding, you should avoid staying at room 13 at the Strawberry Inn. It's a bit… _obvious_."

The man snarled out, "Tell me why you're here, or I will kill you. Quite frankly, the only reason I haven't already plugged a bullet into that pretty little head of yours is because I'm curious as to what made you insane enough to show yourself to me."

Kira crossed the tiny street in a single heartbeat. Unsurprisingly, no one had appeared to see what the gunshots were about. In this area, such a noise was just a normal part of life, as was the sight of someone randomly gunned down in the street. _Disgusting…_ Kira spat internally. _The thought of such a rapist attempting to lay a hand on me…it's repulsive._ He was standing in front of the other man in but a few steps, gazing up into orangey yellow eyes. Shinigami eyes. The gun was pressing harshly into his chest now, and Kira knew that with a single twitch of a finger, his life could end. But he also knew that it wouldn't, not today.

The man repeated himself. "Why are you here?"

"I was convinced you wanted to work with me to kill L. Am I incorrect?"

Immediately the man drew back, light from a nearby streetlamp illuminating an all-too-familiar face. The face of Beyond Birthday. "Light?" he questioned suspiciously, as if he couldn't believe it was really him.

"Not quite," Kira purred. His fingers curled around Beyond's wrist, forcing him to drop the gun. "I'm much, _much_ worse…" He hooked an arm around Beyond's waist, reveling in the surprised breath that the murderer sucked in through clenched teeth.

"…Kira," he murmured wondrously.

Kira used his free hand to yank the murderer's head down, bestowing a violent, bloody kiss upon his cracked lips. It couldn't have lasted more than a second, but when he drew away, Beyond was gasping for breath. It was all the affirmation the murderer needed.

"How is this possible?" he breathed, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Be silent, Beyond," Kira purred in response, carding his fingers through coarse black hair, tugging lightly.

The murderer didn't listen. His eyes glimmered dangerously as he growled, "How do I know this is not an act? How do I know that it is not L's plan to send you here under the pretense of being Kira?"

Smirking, Kira pressed himself flush with the murderer, enjoying the feel of the man's body held against his own. He held up one hand, displaying the blood that had long since dried on his fingers. Aizawa's blood. "Do you see this, dearest Beyond?" His tone was mocking, _scathing_ , despite his endearing words. "Do you see all this red, splattered _all over me?"_

The murderer nodded breathlessly, hands clasping behind Kira's back uncertainly as his eyes traveled down his form, taking in the globs of still-drying blood clinging to Kira's clothing—some from Aizawa, some from the dead rapist.

"Do you know where it came from?"

A shake of the head.

Kira tugged harshly on Beyond's hair, purring, "It came from a member of the task force that I murdered in cold blood. You should have seen it, should have heard the crack of the gun, should have felt the spray of blood…"

Beyond's eyes filled with a longing, lustful glaze. "You murdered someone without using the Death Note?"

"I did," Kira growled in a low tone, leaning in so his lips brushed Beyond's throat with every word. "I splattered his brains all across the tile. I would have done the same to Matt if L wasn't so negligent when it comes to loading his gun."

"And the notebook?" Beyond questioned. "If you left it behind, both of us will be killed."

Kira smirked, reaching beneath his shirt. He withdrew the Death Note, waving it teasingly before Beyond's eyes.

The murderer's eyes widened. "You…you have the notebook. The only two Death Notes in this world are in our possession!"

"Indeed they are," Kira whispered. He drew back just enough to stare Beyond in the eye, reveling in the gleam of worship he saw swirling within. "We will be _gods,_ Beyond. No, we already _are_ gods. So long as we work together, nothing will be able to stand against us."

There was lust in Beyond's eyes. Lust for power, lust for the notebook—lust for Kira himself.

Kira saw that lust, and mirrored it skillfully. Beyond was not so different from Misa, he knew. All it would take to gain his trust would be a few carefully placed kisses, some clever words, and most importantly, his participation in the act Beyond was so clearly thinking of. The rest would be easy—Kira would not solely use Beyond, and Beyond would not solely use Kira—rather, they would use each other to achieve their goals, sinking deeper and deeper into mutual deception.

The murderer reached out, gripping Kira's wrist in powerful fingers and raising it before his eyes. The fingers of his other hand shot out, running over the splint that held his two broken fingers together. Dropping the appendage, his palm settled over Kira's chest, pressing lightly and drawing a sharp hiss from the teen. "You don't seem to have healed," he murmured in a satisfied tone, his fingers dancing over the back of Kira's left shoulder where that massive scar would no doubt be. "You're still covered in wounds…"

Kira rolled his eyes with a dark smirk, responding, "And I'm sure you'll be eager to create even more…won't you, Beyond?"

The murderer's eyes glimmered with sadistic excitement. "Are you offering?"

Kira leaned in, pressing his forehead lightly to Beyond's. "I believe you have a room here, do you not? Perhaps we should… _make use of it."_

Beyond's eyes widened. Then, slowly, he nodded, a calculating expression overtaking his features. "Perhaps we should." He took Kira by the wrist, attempting to drag him away, but he was stopped by a meaningful tug in the other direction. He frowned, turning to face his god.

"Now, now," Kira purred. "I hope you don't think I'm going to let you have _all_ the control…I'm not Light, after all."

The murderer raised a brow, his expression one of aroused anticipation. "Are you planning to fight me over it?"

"Undoubtedly."

Smirking, Beyond shook his head slowly. "You're a demon. A _devil_ wearing angel's clothing."

"No…" Kira smirked. "On the contrary, Beyond…I am a _god_ of _death_." Slowly, deliberately, he latched his fingers around Beyond's wrist, and this time _he_ was the one dragging _Beyond_ for room 13. Or, as Beyond would see it, room _B._

The door slammed shut behind them with a note of finality, and didn't reopen.

 **This concluded part three, and was the most fun I've had on a chapter yet! I love the interaction between Kira and Beyond; it's crazy fun to write. Also, the later I get into the story, the less I have to edit and the more time I have to work on other things, so I've actually had time to work on the DN college AU I was writing before I started posting this! It won't be ready to post for quite a while, but it's still nice to get some work done on it.**

 **I hope you enjoyed, and be sure to drop me a review if you did!**


	15. Moonrise

**Welcome to chapter fifteen! I got some pretty awesome reviews on that last chapter, so thanks a lot if you left one! And don't worry, I could never lay a hand on Matt…at least, not right now. Anyways, this chapter's a bit short, as are the next two or three. I've done my best to extend them to a decent length, but you should still expect a slight decrease in word count for a few chapters. Sorry!**

 **Chapter 15: Moonrise**

At last, after what felt like decades of waiting… it was all over.

Beyond could barely contain his joy as he gazed upon his prize, the person he had worked so hard for. Kira was sprawled out over bloodstained sheets, hair falling back against the pillows like an amber halo, muscles rippling beneath golden skin as he tensed in his sleep. Those long, supple limbs were brutally marred with countless teeth marks and purple bruises, and blood still dribbled from half-crescent wounds littered across his shoulders. Due to still-healing wounds, Beyond hadn't been able to take his nails—or knife, for that matter—to Kira's chest, but the wounds there had been torn open due to vigorous movement, and had dripped steady rivers of blood down to stain the previously white sheets. The same thing had happened to the teen's back—where Beyond had carved his own initials, the skin had split back open—and to his delight, when Kira rolled over, he saw that his blood had painted out a sloppy imitation of the two letters. Other than that, Kira had gotten off relatively easy—there were bruising handprints and nail marks covering his hips, deep bites littering his neck and shoulders, and the flesh of his lips had been split open painfully by slashing teeth.

Of course, Beyond reflected, Kira wasn't the only one to come away from their little power play with marred flesh—he himself had some rather deep slashes running down his back due to Kira's unusually sharp nails. And the bruising marks around his waist were certainly not to be overlooked, nor were the littering of bite marks scattered across all parts of his body. Kira, the little minx, had very sharp teeth—and he seemed more than eager to apply them anywhere he could reach. As a result, it didn't take long for the bed sheets to turn red with blood.

Kira shifted suddenly, rolling onto his side and facing the murderer sharing his bed. It was late, Beyond reflected—or rather, at this point it should probably be called _early_ —it was, after all, five in the morning. Beyond had always had a sort of insomnia, much like L, and therefore was unable to rest, even after the rather exhausting activities of a mere four or five hours ago. But Kira seemed completely unaffected by sleeplessness. The instant the last few moans faded from the air and their last few kisses were exchanged, the scarlet-eyed teen had faded away without so much as a whispered _good night._ But Beyond, on the other hand, was left to lean back against the cheap, flimsy headboard and wait for sleep that never came. But he was okay with that so long as he got to sit back and admire the teen that had so willingly returned to him. He had to admit, he'd been quite surprised to see Light Yagami standing outside the Strawberry Inn, staring up at it with glittering eyes that seemed far more scarlet than those of a normal human. He'd been watching from the window of his room, which just so happened to be conveniently located with its front facing the road. He'd considered rushing out into the street and slitting the teen's throat then and there—and he'd deserve it too, after his refusal to help him kill L. He'd been so _disappointed_ when his plan had failed. He'd believed so wholeheartedly that he could turn Light to his side that he hadn't even considered the possibility that he'd refuse him. And after hearing the teen's brutal words of rejection, he'd almost felt _sad_ —and then he'd hated himself for feeling that way, and that hatred screamed for Light's head on a silver platter, and so he obeyed. Or at least, he _would_ have obeyed had Lawli not come bursting in with a gun aimed for his head. He'd wanted so badly to rake the blade of his knife through Light's neck, to spill his innards and splatter his blood all over the detective who so desperately loved him—but alas, Lawli had dared to shoot him, and it was all over. Beyond was forced to flee that damned warehouse with his tail between his legs, struggling to contain the rivers of blood that flowed from his tattered hand. In all honesty, he'd barely escaped with his life. The task force, as incompetent as they were, took their jobs quite seriously, and it was actually rather difficult to find a way out that wasn't being watched. Of course, it would have just taken just a few swipes of his knife to dispel even the most resilient of the task force members, but he didn't trust himself to take on any of the fools so long as his head was spinning dangerously from blood loss. After he'd hauled himself out one of the windows, he'd barely managed to make it to the Strawberry Inn. And when he was finally hidden away in one of the dingy rooms, he'd gotten the opportunity to really examine what Lawli had done to his hand, and he'd nearly passed out then and there—he'd always admired a bit of blood, but even _he_ was slightly disgusted by the remaining tatters of his appendage.

Frowning, Beyond held up his right hand, eyes raking over the bandages and hints of bloodied skin. It was still healing and badly mangled, but he'd dealt with worse wounds before—all it took was a bit of bloody, painful, self-administered surgery, and he knew it would soon be as good as new. Well, actually, that was a bit of a lie. He'd done the best he could with the remnants of his poor, tattered hand, but he very much doubted he would ever regain full control of it. Even as Beyond reached out, tracing his fingers over Kira's cheek, he had to force his hand to move the way he wished. But no matter—he'd had to deal with worse handicaps before. If all he had to do was learn to use his knife with the opposite hand, then it had been well worth it to spend the time he did with Light.

But he'd gotten sidetracked—he'd been reminiscing about his meeting with Light—for he _had_ thought he was dealing with Light at the time _._ Beyond had seen that filthy rapist approach the teen, had watched with vague curiosity as the man pinned him against the wall and very nearly kissed him. And for just a moment, Beyond had almost been inclined to let the rapist have his way, if not just to punish the teen for rejecting him back in that warehouse. But watching that man, that vile creature, lay a hand on his Light… it stirred up faint feelings of protectiveness, feelings that he was all too eager to shove down. But the instant he'd repressed that protectiveness, he'd felt anger, anger so strong that it had almost knocked him flat on his back, and _that_ was an emotion that he was more than willing to indulge. And so he'd snatched up his gun, made sure it was loaded, and stormed outside to rescue the teen that had caused him so much trouble. That repulsive man had just been about to kiss Light when he shot him in the back. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't been sure that the bullet wouldn't just pass right through the man and kill Light too—but he'd been so furious, blinded by that scarlet fury, that he hadn't seemed to care. The man fell to the ground, convulsing weakly, and his blood sprayed up beautifully over Light's shadowed features. But, Beyond noted with interest, the teen had already been covered in blood before that moment. Had he killed someone? _Without_ the Death Note? At that point Beyond had remained cloaked in shadow, not yet ready to approach his tormentor. And then Light had raised his head and called out, and Beyond knew immediately that he wasn't the same person he'd been during those twelve days he'd held him captive. Those eyes were too red, the look on his face too malicious. This…this was not Light. Of that he had been certain. And but a few moments later his certainty was just reinforced as Light purred his intentions into Beyond's ears using that honeyed voice, lips brushing over too-pale flesh. And then, between breathy moans and drags of nails over splitting flesh, Light had told him all too clearly who he was and what had happened.

He was Kira. He was the one Beyond had worked so hard to obtain.

And what was more, he seemed almost eager to work with Beyond to kill L. Not only that—he'd fallen into bed with the dark-haired murderer with ease, and was every inch the masochistic succubus that Beyond had hoped him to be. Although, the murderer recalled with amusement, he hadn't exactly made things easy for him. He idolized Kira, admired him for all his malicious tendencies—but admiration would only go so far, and he was _not_ willing to simply roll over and spread his legs, even for the god of the new world.

Drawn back to the present by a soft sigh from his lover—and Beyond reveled in the ability to call him that—the murderer reached out and traced pale fingers over bruised lips. The teen was deceptively serene in sleep. It was just another part of his mask, Beyond knew. A carefully composed, smooth, scarlet mask—one, he thought, that had been all-too-quick to fall away beneath his bruising fingers and skilled tongue. Trailing his fingertips over Kira's scarlet-crusted flesh, Beyond couldn't contain a smile as he saw just how badly he'd hurt the teen. He'd be hurting for _weeks_ due to the events of just a few short hours. And if Beyond had his way, he'd get to add even more of those deep, bloody wounds to his lover soon enough. But not now, he knew—for once Kira awoke, they would have no time for such things. The whole of their time would be consumed in the creation of Kira's new world—and, of course, in the destruction of Lawli and the successors. Beyond, of course, had no interest in such a perfect world—in fact, he wasn't sure that a perfect world could possibly come into existence, even through Kira's best efforts. But to stay beside the one he was so infatuated with, to be allowed to touch him without restraint, and most importantly, to _murder_ L, the conniving little wretch—Beyond would gladly play along with his lover's little game. He had Lawli's name, those two deadly words that existed in the heads of only three people on the entire planet—Beyond, Watari, and L himself. All it would take would be a few touches of pen to paper, and the detective would die. He wondered with a smirk if Kira would really kill him in that way, or if he, like Beyond, would wish to play their game out to its conclusion before halting the detective's fluttering heart.

A soft noise drew Beyond's attention to the scarlet-eyed teen. He shifted slightly, muscles tensing beneath marred skin. And then, a moment later, those formerly sepia eyes flickered open. For a single, almost terrifying moment, Kira's eyes danced with a conflicted sort of fiery amber. But then the amber was swallowed by scarlet, as it should be, and he smirked.

"Kira," Beyond growled out, tugging on amber locks. "Are you in control?"

Kira stared at the ceiling for a few long moments before slowly rolling his eyes to stare at Beyond. He didn't respond as he slowly stretched his muscles, testing them to make sure nothing was wrong. His eyes raked down his body as he sat, leaning against the headboard and tracing his fingertips over sluggishly bleeding wounds. He stared at his red-stained fingers with slight irritation, wiping them off on the ever-darkening sheets as his gaze returned to the dark-haired murderer watching him carefully. "Beyond Birthday," he said at last, and that slight rasp in his voice sent shivers down Beyond's spine.

"Yes?" he responded eagerly. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I am quite fine. You don't have to worry about Light; he won't regain control." The glazed look left Kira's gaze as he observed Beyond with narrowed eyes. "You've hurt me quite terribly, Beyond."

The murderer smirked, reaching out and digging his nails into one of the deep slits crossing Kira's chest, tearing the flesh open and reveling in the low growl the pain drew from his lover's throat. "Don't pretend you didn't love every minute of it, Kira."

The teen smirked, one hand rising to brush through Beyond's hair with mock endearment. "You're going to pay for it either way. It's not in my nature to let criminals go unpunished, after all."

 _Oh…_ those words shouldn't have been as arousing as they were. "You can try to punish me if you wish, but you'll have to _fight_ for it, little god."

Kira's eyes narrowed. "Don't test me," he growled, but it was all too clear to see that he wasn't serious in his anger. "Or the next time I fall into bed with you, _you'll_ be the one begging for mercy."

Beyond sighed almost dreamily, eyes clouding as his thoughts flickered to their little escapade. "Oh, are you sure about that? Are you sure you won't let me lay you out on your back so easily once again? I must admit, Kira, I thought that you'd put up more of a fight…who could have known that the god of the new world is so submissive in bed? Oh, pardon me…I'm sure _L_ knows as much." In reality, Kira had been all-too-close to beating Beyond down—but the murderer had a few tricks up his sleeve, and he'd had to use just one of them to reduce his lover to a shaking, whimpering mess.

A flash of raw fury tore through Kira's eyes, and he snarled out, "You think me _weak,_ Beyond?"

The murderer smirked languidly, fingers drawing fresh blood from one of the slashes on Kira's chest. "Of course not, dear Kira, you are not _weak._ " He paused, admiring the utter rage flickering through those crimson eyes. "I could never call you weak, my dear. After all, I can be _quite_ persuasive, so I can't hold you at fault for letting me mount you like a common _whore…_ "

A heartbeat later there was a flurry of movement, and Beyond felt fire spread across his cheek in the shape of a handprint. He smirked, even as the flesh split beneath the force of the blow, dripping blood down his face. He flicked his tongue out to taste the sanguine liquid, reveling in the disgusted look in his lover's eyes. "You _bastard!"_ Kira spat out, drawing back his hand and striking him again. Beyond made no move to stop him.

"Relax," Beyond purred, dabbing his fingers at the coppery liquid. "I'm only joking, dearest." His hand shot out to grip Kira by the hair, dragging him up for a kiss that he swiftly lost control of. The little _minx_ …the things he could do with that mouth of his were unreal. And it seemed that Kira knew it just as well as he did, for a moment later he was using that advantage to flip their positions, and it took less than a heartbeat for those blood-soaked fingers to curl around his wrists, holding him down firmly.

Kira drew back, settling over Beyond's hips and snarling, "I don't _believe_ you, Beyond. I can see it in your eyes—you believe that I am far inferior to yourself. Well, if you think I'm so _weak_ , then I'll just have to prove you wrong."

Beyond thought that sounded like an _excellent_ idea—the way Kira had seated himself so intentionally over his hips was infuriatingly suggestive, and he would have liked nothing more than to take the teen up on his offer—but just as he was about to begin his grapple for the upper hand, a new voice completely threw him off.

"You two aren't done yet? Geez, I never realized how much you humans get up to these kinds of things."

Kira's eyes widened, some of that raw fury leaking back into the scarlet irises. With a single hand he pushed himself away from Beyond, returning to his side of the bed, and the murder realized sulkily that what he'd had in mind would have to wait. "Ryuk," Beyond snapped, "what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to get out?"

The shinigami shrugged carelessly. "It's been _hours!_ I'm bored!"

Beyond's attention was drawn momentarily to Kira, who had risen and picked his clothing up off the ground, slipping back into it and covering up all those pretty marks. Sighing, Beyond followed suit, mind still filled with all of the things he wanted to do to his lover. "You're unbelievable," the murderer growled. "Did you do as I asked?"

Ryuk rolled his eyes, responding, "Yeah, yeah, I did it!"

"Then where is she?" Beyond demanded.

"Calm down!" the shinigami said lazily. "She's in the other room." He floated over to the wall and stuck his head through, his muffled voice calling out, "Hey! Get in here already!" Ryuk drew back, making way for the female shinigami that emerged from the wall a heartbeat later. Said shinigami glared down at Kira and Beyond through one narrowed eye, the other shrouded by bandages.

Kira raised a brow, stepping forward slightly to face the newcomer. Beyond noted with amazement that in just a few moments he'd managed to compose himself and hide almost all of his bruises and cuts—though there was one vicious bite on his neck that he couldn't conceal, even with the collar of his shirt. He looked every inch the perfect teen he was supposed to be—and if Beyond himself hadn't been the one to cover every inch of him with those marks, then he would never have guessed they existed. Those scarlet eyes locked onto Beyond's, and Kira asked, "You called her here?"

Beyond nodded wordlessly.

Slowly, a smirk spread across Kira's face. "You did well, Beyond. You're every bit as clever as I hoped you'd be. We'll work amazingly together, don't you think?" Without waiting for a response, he went on, "Rem, I'm glad you're here."

The shinigami's expression twisted into one of disgust as she said flatly, "Kira. I see you finally have what you want."

"Why, it seems that I do!" he chuckled. "Fancy that. There's only one thing left, Rem. One thing left until I achieve my ultimate victory. You know what I mean, don't you? I have to kill those miserable pests on the task force, and then everyone that knows my face—save for my dear Beyond, of course."

The shinigami snarled, lurching closer with her notebook held firmly in one hand, the other clutching a pen. Her teeth were bared in a furious leer. "If you are thinking of killing Misa, you can forget it! I will kill you myself if you dare raise a pen against her!"

Kira looked unaffected, much to Beyond's surprise. To be threatened by a shinigami was no small thing.

"I will not kill Misa," Kira assured her. "I will not go near her for the time being, nor will I converse with her through text or email in any way. I will not bring harm to her."

Rem's eyes narrowed, seeing the deceit so carefully concealed behind Kira's mask. He very much intended to kill Misa, and she knew it. "I will kill you," she repeated harshly. "I will not hesitate to end my own life if it means saving Misa's."

"I know. I told you, I will not harm her. I swear it."

Beyond caught what Rem did not. He saw the slight turn of the head, the subtle inclination of the neck in his direction, and it made him grin. So, then, _he_ would be the one to kill Misa Amane. After all, Kira had only stated that _he_ would not harm Misa. That left her wide open to murder at Beyond's hands. He could have cackled at the shinigami's idiocy.

Rem went on, "You must forgive me for being suspicious, but I have seen firsthand what value your promises hold. I will ask that you allow me to return to Misa and watch over her, just to ensure that you do not target her. After all, there are other methods of killing other than the Death Note, and I will not stand to see you send some sort of assassin after her." Her eyes flickered to Beyond as she spoke. He frowned. Perhaps the shinigami wasn't as foolish as he thought. "Give me permission to go to Misa once more and stay there, unless summoned by you."

Kira hesitated, a bitter expression on his face. It was obvious that he was calculating all the possible issues that Rem's request could create. "I called you here so that I could have you aid me in the destruction of L. I will not have you gallivanting off to Misa's apartment."

If Rem's visible eye narrowed any further, Beyond thought that it might disappear entirely. Clearly enraged, she bit out, "Even if you wish to keep me here, I will not help you. Surely you know this already."

Kira glared fiercely at the shinigami, snapping back, "In either case, I will not allow you to leave."

"If you do not let me to go Misa, then I will not cooperate with you. I know a great many things that could lead to your capture, after all, and I know that L would be more than willing to listen."

"You wouldn't dare!" Kira spat.

"I advise you not to test me, human."

Kira's lips curled in a nasty snarl that made Beyond want to take him then and there—but he restrained himself, knowing that the teen would no doubt _punish_ him for it later, as he'd so eloquently put it. Beyond's gaze stayed locked on Kira as he raised a hand, sweeping it through auburn strands. He didn't have much of a choice, Beyond noticed with amusement. He'd no doubt be forced to allow Rem to go to Misa.

Kira seemed to realize it as well. "Very well," he spat. "Take special care to watch Misa's email. I will send her a message when I want to contact you. Or if not that, then Ryuk will come to retrieve you."

Rem didn't respond. She just glared at Kira, turned, and floated away through a wall.

"You need to leave too," Kira ordered Ryuk in a chillingly malicious tone.

"Huh? You want me gone _again?_ What am I supposed to do?"

Beyond broke in, snapping, "There's a supermarket down the street. It's old and decrepit, but there should be some apples there. Feel free to take as many as you like."

That seemed to please the shinigami. He grinned toothily, responding eagerly, "Perfect! Light, why didn't you ever let me steal apples?"

"It's _Kira,"_ the teen corrected irritably. "And I didn't let you steal because it would have looked a bit obvious if apples just started floating off the stands, you moron!"

Ryuk cackled. "Aww, you're no fun!"

" _Ryuk,"_ Beyond interrupted, flickers of anger building in the pit of his stomach. "Leave."

"Fine, fine…" Rolling his eyes, the shinigami drifted forwards and slipped from the room through one of the walls.

The instant the two shinigami were gone, Beyond looked back to Kira. The teen wasted no time in falling back onto the bed, back propped up against the headboard, legs slightly parted. He tossed the Death Note he held onto the desk beside the bed. "Now," he purred, eyes half-lidded. "We need a plan, do we not? Come, Beyond, converse with me."

The murderer was all-too-quick to slip into bed beside the teen, smirking as he pulled Beyond down so his head rested in his lap. He didn't miss the authority Kira was attempting to hold over him, but he had no desire to deprive him of his fun—not now, at least. "What is there to discuss?" he questioned, hiding a smirk.

"We need to decide how we're going to win this little game."

"Ah, of course…" Beyond's gaze flickered to the desk, where Kira's Death Note lay with the pages carelessly thrown open due to its little fall from Kira's fingers. His own notebook was tucked away in the desk drawer on the other side of the room. It wasn't exactly hidden, but it would do for now. Beyond gazed up at his lover, purring, "I have his name, Kira. I have L's real name."

The teen offered him a satisfied smirk. "I'm sure that you do. But you of all people should understand why I will not use it…though I will request that you tell me what it is all the same. I must take certain precautions, you understand…"

"Do you want to know now?" Beyond asked softly, those two precious words filling his whole mind. He suddenly longed to lean in and whisper them to his little god. "I'll tell you."

Kira hummed, one finger pressing to his lips in a way that much resembled L. "…No," he decided. "Not now. I will have his name, but I do not want it just yet."

Beyond felt his lips quirk upwards in a smile. "If you will not kill him with the Death Note, then what will we do?" He was very much convinced that he knew _exactly_ what Kira's plan was—but he wanted to hear those venomous words fall from bruised lips, wanted to hear how they broke on the stagnant air.

"I thought that much would be obvious, dear Beyond. We're going to play this game, and we're going to _win._ I will slaughter L, with my bare hands if I have to—but not until I've seen him thoroughly beaten and laid at my feet. Not until I hear his pleas for death. Not until he _knows_ that he has lost, and knows that I was the one who brought him to his knees."

Beyond shuddered pleasantly at the thought. Kira…he was so much like him. It was chilling. "What would you have me do?" he asked eagerly, not caring that he was making himself sound utterly submissive.

Kira's eyes rolled to one side, falling upon his companion with a languid smirk. "L will try to track me down with everything he has. We'll need a deterrent, something to stop him in his tracks. _You're_ going to be that deterrent, Beyond. As soon as you can be bothered to remove yourself from this bed, you're going to pick up your notebook and start writing names."

"You just want me to write names?" Beyond questioned, brow raised. "You'll have me stick to criminals, I expect?"

"Hmm…" Kira trailed off, fingers tugging on obsidian locks. "…No. I want you to kill anyone and everyone you want."

"Ooh, Kira!" Beyond chuckled. "How… _bad_ of you. What happened to your devotion to justice that I loved so much?"

Kira snorted, turning his head away. "Nothing has happened. I am simply trying to meet my goal of creating a new and perfect world, and this is the only way to do that."

Beyond shook his head with a nasty grin, bringing one hand up and turning Kira's face towards his own, forcing their eyes to meet. "Oh no, Kira. Even _you_ can't delude yourself into believing that the murder of innocent people is a step on the path of justice." He pulled the teen towards him slowly, and Kira was so entranced by those yellowish orange eyes that he didn't seem to notice the decreasing space between them. "I can see it in your eyes, Kira…you're lusting for blood. For _Lawli's_ blood. You can pretend that you're working for justice all you want, but I can see you for who you really are—a _monster._ A monster who wants to kill all the other monsters, but a monster just the same. And I'm going to force you to face yourself, Kira. I'm going to strip you down and shove your true nature down your pretty little throat. And then, after you realize what you really are, we can _really_ have some fun."

The teen snarled, wrenching himself away from his partner. But to Beyond's satisfaction, he didn't attempt to deny it.

"I have a suspicion, dearest Kira," the murderer purred. "A suspicion that when you crushed Light beneath your boot, you crushed the last scraps of your so-called _justice_ along with him _._ And no matter how much you want to deny it, you yourself know that it's true. You can feel it, can't you? Deep in your heart, you're not the same person you once were." Oh, the way those crimson eyes narrowed, filling with unrestrained fury…it was the most attractive thing Beyond had ever seen. "You want so desperately to create a world free from evil, isn't that right? But you don't care how you do it anymore. You're well beyond the point of caring about a few hundred innocent lives. Having me slaughter all those people…so long as it leads to a world without crime, you have no issue with becoming a criminal. You're a living, breathing contradiction, you know that?"

Growling furiously, Kira leaned forward suddenly and practically attacked Beyond's lips with his own. So it was to be another power play, yes? That was fine. He could deal with anything the little minx threw at him. He leaned forward, feeling his jeans beginning to grow tighter, and welcomed Kira to do what he would. But a moment later, when he felt no additional contact, the murderer opened his eyes with a frown. "What's wrong?" he spat out. "Losing your nerve, Kira?"

The scarlet-eyed teen smirked, drawing back and practically leaping out of bed. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He stalked over to the desk and seated himself, pulling out Beyond's Death Note and plucking a pen from the drawer. He glanced back, and when he saw Beyond's disbelieving stare, his smirk only broadened. "What's wrong? Did you want something?"

 _Ooh, that little temptress is going to get it…_ "Nothing at all," Beyond sneered, silently promising Kira that the instant his guard was down, he would claim him without mercy. "The sooner we get started, the sooner Lawli dies, right? Then let's get going."

Kira turned back to his notebook, pen already scratching away at the paper, one hand shooting out to turn on the TV. Holding back an amused chuckle, Beyond reached for the Death Note on the table beside him and opened it, taking his time in turning to the nearest blank page.

This…was going to be a _lot_ of fun.

†††

L felt as if the world had ended around him. Because once again, the one thing he valued most had been taken away from him by Beyond Birthday, and once again he was left all alone.

He hated it.

He hated Kira. He hated Beyond. And most of all, he hated himself.

Because, after all… this was _his_ fault.

As L knelt on the glass-covered ground, back hunched, head bent forward, he found himself overcome with a rage more potent than any he had ever experienced. He glared unseeingly at the ground, feeling a scream building in his throat. How…how had he let this happen? How had he been so _blind?_ If he'd just come to his senses sooner, if he'd seen Kira for what he was…this all could have been avoided. Aizawa wouldn't be dead. A mass murderer wouldn't be running free in Light's body.

Dimly, L thought he heard Watari's voice, thought he heard chains falling to the floor with loud, clanging noises. The members of the task force were picking themselves up, dusting themselves off and straightening their clothing. They moved in slow motion towards Aizawa's body, and it wasn't long before they were crouching around him, wearing identical expressions of shock and horror. Soichiro in particular looked as if he were about to pass out. It was perfectly understandable, seeing as he'd just witnessed his son—or rather, his son's possessor—murder a member of the task force in cold blood. The poor man had no idea what was going on, and he was too shell-shocked to ask for an explanation.

L heard a sudden exclamation of stunned relief, and his eyes were draw in in the opposite direction as Mello darted across the room and crushed Matt to him in a desperate embrace. Even in his stunned state, L recognized how rare it was to see the blonde successor acting this way. His cheeks shone with what could only be tears, and his expression was twisted painfully. It took only a single instant for the teen to run his hands up and down the body of his lover, no doubt reassuring himself that Matt was here, that he was still alive. And Matt seemed to be in a similar state, his breathing short and ragged as he clutched at the other successor.

L looked away the instant the two leaned in for a kiss. He felt as if he were about to scream. The noise was building higher and higher in his throat, bubbling towards the surface and pushing at the backs of his teeth. The only thing that stopped him from releasing that ball of pent-up frustration and fury was the small hand that came to rest on his shoulder. L turned his head and saw Near standing at his side, his normally white clothing dirtied by dust and small fragments of glass. A small cut just under his eye was spilling blood in a steady leak, dripping down his face in an odd imitation of scarlet tears. Numbly, L felt another hand brush through his hair, and his eyes darted to his left to see Mello gazing down at him, seemingly having paused his little reunion long enough to comfort his mentor. And finally, a dull thud drew his attention to the space directly in front of him, where Matt had brushed away the glass with his foot and knelt before him.

Matt's face twisted into an expression of agony. "Oh god, L…" He lurched forward and threw his arms around the older man, crushing him in a hug. L felt the rage within him quell slightly as he stared down blankly at the teen. He…he'd put Matt in danger too, he knew. He could easily have been killed. It was all his fault… _all his fault._

Two more thumps, and two more sets of arms joined Matt's.

"Hey…" Mello offered. "There's still a chance…"

L had no doubt that the successor didn't believe his own words. He choked. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he blinked them back with some of that repressed fury. There was still a chance… still a chance that what? That Light was still _Light?_ That Kira _hadn't_ just wrested control? That he hadn't just _murdered_ Aizawa and attempted to do the same to Matt? Or perhaps there was still a chance that Light could fight his way back to consciousness and come back to him? He laughed brokenly. It was a flat, humorless sound. No… it was all over now. Perhaps it had all been over from the moment L had dared to lean forward and seal his lips to Light's for the first time, all those weeks ago. Because he knew that even if Light somehow managed to overpower Kira, it would be pointless. Kira would always be in the back of Light's mind, and he would always have that terrible power to overpower Light and kill anyone he wished. No one would ever be safe around Light again.

 _No…_ L reminded himself bitterly. _That's nothing new. All of these things were already set in stone the instant Kira was reintroduced. I've just been forcing myself to remain blind to them, hiding the truth and hoping that maybe, just maybe, reality would cease to exist if I wished hard enough for it to vanish._

Through his painful realization, L glanced up to his successors. Near locked eyes with him immediately, and it struck L that he was the only one who hadn't said anything yet. As if following L's train of thought, Near leaned in and whispered in a voice so quiet that the other successors were deaf to it, "I'm sorry, L. But you know what comes next."

L cursed the brutality of his first ranked successor. Cursed his intelligence. Because while the others offered comfort, Near offered logical solutions to the problem. And in this case, the only logical solution was…

… _No_.

"Don't make me think of such things," L rasped, arms hanging limply at his sides as Near rubbed soothing circles on his back. "Don't. Not yet." And then he found himself repeating Mello's words, the ones that he had already deemed ridiculous. "There's still a chance…"

There was pity in Near's eyes. He slowly drew back, getting to his feet, and then there were suddenly real tears slipping from his eyes, mixing with the blood running from the cut just below his eye. Despite the emotional storm raging within him, L still found the mental strength to be stunned. He had never seen Near cry before. Even his tears seemed emotionless—his expression barely strayed from its normal, calculating look.

"L," Matt said softly, drawing his attention away from Near. "Your knees are bleeding."

L looked down with dim surprise. Ah, yes… the glass from the shattered computer screen had sliced into his knees when he fell. Blood was slowly forming a small pool around him, staining the clothing of the successors, who knelt close to him. There were small red patches on Near's white pants at the knees, and some of the scarlet liquid was drying on his bare feet.

Matt and Mello exchanged glances, then both rose slowly, pulling L to his feet with them. "Come on," Matt said softly. "Near's right, we need to get you patched up."

A few minutes later L found himself sitting on the seat of the toilet in the bathroom with absolutely no memory of having walked there. His three successors were gathered around him. Near was gently pushing his jeans up past his knees to get at the slices caused by the shattered glass. Matt riffled through the cabinet above the sink, searching for bandages and rubbing alcohol. Mello, never much for playing doctor, was leaning against the door with a smoldering cigarette between his lips. Normally this would have been the point when either L or Near would snap at Mello about his nasty habit, tell him to stop. But Near was too focused on the cuts at L's knees, and the detective's mind was far, far away—too far for him to care that with every passing moment, smoke was thickening in the air. Matt handed the rubbing alcohol to Near, who used a swab of cotton to soak up a bit of the liquid. He dabbed at L's knees, mopping up the blood that still leaked steadily from the slices. Tiny fragments of glass were gently removed as they snagged in L's skin. Satisfied, Near took the roll of bandages from Matt and began wrapping them around one of L's tattered knees. It was dead silent in the bathroom, save for the slight rustle of cloth.

"L," Matt spoke at last. He opened his mouth to speak further, but then cut himself off, seemingly at a loss for words. As he should be—what was there that anyone could say? So instead he moved to the sink and wet a washcloth, returning to wipe L's tear-streaked face. It was like taking care of a child, and L was dimly aware that he should pull it together in front of his successors. Once he was alone… he could make no guarantees as to how he would act. Matt threw the dirtied washcloth to the floor then stood stalk still, seemingly uncertain of what to do next.

"Matt, Mello," Near said softly, "I think it would be best if you move two more beds into your room. L and I will be joining you in your living quarters."

Mello's head snapped up immediately. "Hey, what? Why do we have to share our room with—?"

"Mello." Near's voice shook. He glanced meaningfully at L, who was still slumped over on the lid of the toilet. "Please, do not argue. Just this once, do not protest."

Mello nearly snapped back some witty retort, but his voice died in his throat when he followed Near's line of vision. He looked away swiftly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'll go." His voice was strained, much like Near's. "Matt, come on." The brunette nodded shortly and followed Mello out of the bathroom, shooting a mournful glance at the broken detective. The door clicked shut softly behind the two, leaving Near and L alone.

Almost immediately the tension in the room multiplied tenfold. But, L recognized, it wasn't anything like the tension that he so enjoyed whenever Light was near. No… this was more a of a depressing tension, the sort that was almost awkward, but not quite, when both parties knew that they must exchange words but neither wished to break the silence.

Finally, Near fastened the clasps on the bandage around L's right knee and moved to the left. It took just a few moments for that knee to be bandaged as well, and Near stood slowly, eyes never leaving the detective's face. L leaned forward slightly. Then he suddenly lurched and crashed forward, and he would have struck the ground quite harshly if Near had not lunged to catch him.

"L!" Near hissed, supporting him, though he clearly had no care for keeping himself upright. He'd gone almost completely limp, head lolling about on his shoulders. "Please, L, you must try to calm yourself!"

Of course. Leave it to Near to figure out that L was not simply grieving—he was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. And indeed, the detective could feel panic beginning to bubble up in his throat at the prospect of being all alone in headquarters. Of course, logically, L knew that he wouldn't be alone—he would have Near, and Mello, and Matt, and everyone else on the task force. But thinking about Light, scared and alone, pushed to the very furthest corner of his mind by Kira… and thinking of never seeing him again… it was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He blinked them back furiously. He'd been allowing himself to break down too often lately. With that in mind, he forced his muscles to respond. He straightened as much as he could, held his head still, and commanded himself to meet Near's eyes. That particular bit didn't last long—Near's eyes were just too searching, too cold and calculating.

"Get on with it," L rasped. He felt his body begin to cave in on itself again, and used all of his remaining willpower to straighten himself.

"Get on with what?"

L found himself disgusted with Near's monotone. Would it kill him to put some emotion into what he was saying? Then he realized just how hypocritical he was being, and mentally slapped himself—which just reminded him of how Light would be saying the exact same thing about inflection if he were still with him. And that just led him right back to square one—fighting back tears. "You know," he said dully, "I know you're just waiting to talk about our plan, what we should do next. So lay it on me. Get on with it. Talk me off the metaphorical ledge."

"I was not aware that you were on the ledge to begin with. Are you, perhaps, experiencing suicidal thoughts?"

L snorted. "You could say that." He looked up at Near through the shaggy curtain of hair that hung across his face. "Do you understand what has just happened to me?"

"You lost someone very close to you," Near responded flatly. "He was mentally overwhelmed by the mass murderer that you have been hunting down for upwards of a year."

"I lost a friend," L said immediately, not caring to listen to Near's response. "I lost the first person outside of Wammy's House that didn't look at me in confusion or disgust, but rather, with interest and compassion. I lost the first person that ever showed genuine interest in me, and in whom I was genuinely interested. I lost someone that I stayed beside for months, aiding him throughout every headache, every bought of panic. And I lost the person that I watched hover inches from death, then pull himself back miraculously and against all odds. I lost my… my lover."

Near closed his eyes momentarily, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Yes, I am aware of all that. Just as I am aware of the fact that Light is now Kira."

L didn't have a response to that. He simply shook his head miserably.

"And Kira must be brought to justice."

"Near—" L hissed.

"No, L," Near chastised. "You need to hear this." He clasped both hands to L's shoulders and forced the detective to look into his eyes. "I know that you felt strongly for Light. But he is _gone,_ L, and you know he is. Even if Light fought his way back, Kira would be a constant presence in his mind, always pressuring him. Most likely he would live the rest of his days in agony, or succumb to Kira yet again. Either way, the only way out is to kill him. L, no— look at me!" Near shook him lightly, drawing the detective's gaze back to him. "I didn't order Mello and Matt out of the room because I wanted to ask you about what we should do next. I did it so that I could _tell_ you what we will do. I recognize that this is harsh, L. I recognize that this will destroy you. But it must be said, and it must be done." Near leaned in until his eyes were inches from L's. "Tomorrow we are going to walk into the investigation room, and we are going to keep working on the Kira case. We are going to search for every clue, and follow every lead—and we are going to catch Kira and Beyond."

L's eyes widened. "But—!"

The white-haired boy nodded. "I know. If we catch him, Kira will be killed."

" _Light_ will be killed!" L burst out.

"Yes."

That was it. No sugar coating, no sweetener. It was a bitter sort of medicine, forced straight down L's throat. Light was going to die. And he was going to be the one to catch him, to hand him over to the authorities. Or perhaps Light Yagami was already dead, and L was just destroying a corpse and the demon that inhabited it.

"Near, I don't know if I can do it!" The panic was back.

"You are L. You can do anything."

L could have laughed, if he didn't feel like crying. He'd said the same thing, both to his companions and to himself, and had had the same thing said to him many times by the students at Wammy's House. It had always been a good enough motivator, even at the worst of times. The logic behind the statement was solid—he was L, and therefore he could do anything. But now it seemed hollow. Pointless. But despite the deep, painful hole developing in his chest, he nodded at Near and said, "I am L. I can do anything." But it didn't hold the same gravity as before.

His acting wasn't exactly on par with _his—_ with _Light's—_ but it must have been good enough for Near, for he offered L a small smile. "Good. Now, let's get you to bed. Even a sleepless mind like yours needs rest every once and a while, and in this situation I think it will do you good."

"Why did you move our beds into Matt and Mello's room?"

"Because I don't trust what you'll do if we leave you alone." Near gently pulled L to his feet, hooking an arm around his waist to support the weakened detective. It was more than awkward, with Near being nearly a foot shorter than L, but he still managed it well enough. Near supported him almost entirely with every step, as with every step the effort the detective was forced to exert increased. All L could bring himself to think about was that if Light were here, he would just scoop L up and cradle him to his chest, effortlessly toting him around like an adorable, huggable stuffed animal. Light would carry him wherever he wanted, even feed him if he was sick or exhausted by the grief. But Light wasn't here, Near was—and he was hardly about to carry L to bed.

Near reached out and opened the door to the bedroom, hauling L inside. Instantly Matt was at L's other side, helping Near sit the detective down on one of the beds that had been moved into the room. L blearily looked around, taking in the new state of the room. Matt and Mello had pushed their beds together in the far left corner, Near's bed had been pushed into the far right corner, and the bed L was seated on was a few feet away, pushed against the center of the back wall. Numbly, L felt a set of hands gripping his legs, and another set on his shoulders. He felt himself being turned, stretched out on his back on the bed. Hands were tugging his shirt and jeans off, and heartbeats later those same hands were pulling silken pajamas over his head and onto his limp legs. The successors treated him like a doll, dressing him up in the proper clothing and moving his arms and legs until they were satisfied with how he looked, lying there on the bed that he and Light had shared every night for the past several months. It was the same bed that Light had curled up in when Kira was tormenting him, the same bed in which L had laid Light's head in his lap, carding through his hair in the midst of the worst headaches and bouts of terror. It was the same bed in which L had claimed Light, and in which Light had offered himself fully to the detective he loved.

L felt the bed sink slightly as his successors seated themselves on it.

"Hey, L," Matt said softly. "Just get some rest… worry about the investigation tomorrow."

"You'll have to face them tomorrow." That was from Mello. He had always disliked Light. No doubt he lacked the ability to be sympathetic over the loss of someone he very much despised.

"Mello!" Matt hissed, slapping his arm lightly. "Don't say that!"

"No, it's true…" L murmured flatly. "I will have to wake up tomorrow and enter that investigation room as if nothing has occurred. I will have to return to my calm, collected self, and I will have to explain to the task force what has happened. Because, after all, they have no idea as to the nature of my relationship with Light Yagami." He rolled onto his side and curled up in a sideways version of his normal crouch. His thumb rose to his lips and was taken between sharp teeth, the already short nail being worn down even further. He didn't even take the digit away from his mouth to speak, resulting in his words being slurred and muffled. "I recognize that I will have to face the metaphorical music tomorrow. But tonight I will lay here and mourn the loss of someone very dear to me."

After that he was silent, and nothing the successors did could draw another word from his lips.

†††

The instant Rem entered Misa's apartment, she knew that something was wrong. And unfortunately, she knew exactly what that something was. She could sense it in the air, smell it with every breath that entered her body. She knew without a doubt who was in this apartment. Drifting further into the building, Rem's eyes darted this way and that, searching for the being that she knew to be present. As she searched, she saw no sign of Misa; she must have been asleep in her room. It was rather late, after all.

"I was wondering when you would show up," a familiar voice sounded, and a heartbeat later Rem located the source of that voice, lounging back on Misa's couch lazily. One leg was thrown over the armrest of the couch, the other hanging off and just barely scraping the floor.

" _You,"_ Rem bit out, uncharacteristic anger flowing through her. "What are you doing here?"

The being on the couch shrugged. He raised a hand, brushing dark locks from his yellowish orange eyes, not even bothering to turn and face the shinigami hovering so close to him.

Rem's one visible eye narrowed as she drifted closer, staring down at the being. He had no shoes, and was wearing a blood-red t-shirt and denim shorts. "Tell me what you are doing here," she ordered again.

The being lolled his head over to stare at her, eyes lazily searching up and down her form. "Rem…" he drawled. "I am not here to harm your human. You have nothing to fear."

"Is that so?" the shinigami responded coolly. "Then please enlighten me; what _are_ you here to do? You are aware, of course, that your little game has spun out of control?"

The being shrugged again. "I am here because I wanted to speak to you, and I assumed that you'd end up here sooner or later. As for my game…it's not as uncontrollable as you think."

"Light Yagami has fallen to Kira."

"Yes, he has. Exactly as I knew he would."

Rem bared her teeth, grinding out, "You knew and you did nothing to stop it? Light told me that you were romping around inside his head, so why did you not put an end to Kira's rampage? We both know that you have the power to do anything you wish."

The being reached his hand up, staring at his splayed fingers thoughtlessly. "It is not our business to meddle in such affairs."

"If you really believed that then you would not have saved the boy while he lay dying in the hospital. It was his time to die, and yet you saved him."

"I saved him because that was the way things were meant to be," the being murmured. You could never understand why I have done the things I have, even if I explained it to you in great detail."

"You are a fool."

"No, I am merely helping this world take shape. I knew that Light Yagami was supposed to live past that terrible illness, and so I helped him to do so. I knew that he was supposed to fall to Kira, so I did not purge the murderer from his mind. I know a great deal about what is meant to be, Rem. And I intend to make sure that this world lives up to its potential."

"You are _meddling_ , shinigami. It is the one thing you have accused me of doing, and yet here you lay, defending the rules you have broken."

"I _made_ the rules," the being responded lazily. "I can break them as I please, especially with the goal of helping this world meet with its destiny."

Rem shook her head. "You think that just because you have power, you should use it. You cannot see the obvious—that what you are doing will only end in disaster."

"Oh…" the being trailed off, eyes still locked on the ceiling. "I have no doubt of that."

Rem's eye narrowed, and she spat out, "If you are so determined to meddle, then what will you do next?"

Yet another shrug, and the being murmured, "I will do what is necessary." Slowly, hesitantly, he pushed himself to his feet, stretching his arms above his head momentarily. "You do not understand, Rem. You are like the observer of a parade, watching on the sidelines as the floats pass you by. But _I_ …I am like the observer from above. I look down on the parade, and I see every which way it might turn. And if I reach down and close of a street here, a street there…then I can control that parade, and dictate where it will end up stopping."

She sneered, "You are a wretched creature."

The being let out a deep sigh. "Rem…I know that you believe I am evil. You even went so far as to warn Light about me. You told him to stay away, that I would use him and kill him. I admit, that hurts."

"You _are_ evil," Rem responded scathingly. "Every human you've ever involved yourself with ends up _dead._ Forgive me if I thought it necessary to issue a warning to your current victim. It would be quite bad for me if he were to die, you see—for he is the one that Misa loves."

"Ah, yes, the female…" the being threw a glance in the direction of the bedroom, expression one of boredom. "She has her part to play in all of this too, you know."

Rem advanced upon the other shinigami threateningly, looming over him with a snarl. "You will not involve Misa in this. If you do, then I will destroy you."

The being laughed. "As _if_ you could destroy me. You know how powerful I am, Rem. All it would take would be a snap of my fingers, and you'd never be opening your mouth again."

Rem's eye narrowed dangerously, but she knew when she was beaten. This being…this _child…_ she knew how dangerous he was. How _evil_ he was. Changing the subject, she demanded, "Why are you still disguising yourself as a human child? There is no point; I am the only one present."

"Oh, this old thing?" The child plucked at the collar of his shirt, gesturing to his entire being. "I adopted it so I wouldn't scare Light when I approached him, but I suppose it's a bit of a habit now. Funny, how that happens." The being strolled past Rem, heading for the door.

"Wait!" the shinigami called out. "You said you wanted to talk to me, didn't you? What did you want to say?"

The child paused, hand on the doorknob that he didn't really need to use. "I forgot."

Rem nearly snarled at the infuriating response—he was _mocking_ her.

"No, that's not true…" the child trailed off, shooting a dark look over his shoulder. For just a heartbeat his true form was reflected in his shadow alone, and Rem was reminded with startling clarity just how monstrous the child really was. "I did want to tell you something." He turned to face Rem again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Someone is coming to visit you soon, Rem. Someone is going to walk in here and start asking questions—and when he does, you're going to tell him everything he wants to know. Even if he asks about me."

Raising a brow, Rem responded, "Who is this person to whom you would offer up your identity? You know as well as I do that we are forbidden to speak of you, let alone give away who you really are."

"Oh…you'll see." The child shinigami turned back to the door, wrenching it open rather than floating through it. "Oh, and Rem?"

"What is it?"

The child's eyes darkened suddenly, his expression shadowed with an ominous warning. "You will not kill Kira."

Rem raised her chin defiantly. "If he threatens Misa, he will die."

"No, Rem. This is an order. You will not lay a hand on Kira, no matter what may unfold. If you do, then I will personally see to Miss Amane's death. And I can promise you, it won't be pretty. And what's more, once you've told your little visitor everything he wants to know, you're going to _stay out of this._ I don't want you interfering, do you understand?"

Rem dipped her head, frustration evident in the way she held herself. "It appears that you've left me no choice. Very well, I will not lay a hand on Kira. But be warned, shinigami—should Misa become involved in this, then so shall I. I will not promise you that I will stand on the sidelines while she is killed."

The child shook his head, but seemed entirely unsurprised. "I knew that would be your answer—that is what you were fated to say, after all. You may not know it yet, but your future has already been decided, as have the futures of everyone involved in this little game. You've seen it, haven't you Rem? Misa's lifespan…it's different now. I wonder what it means, don't you?"

Rem immediately turned towards the bedroom. She…she _hadn't_ seen Misa's lifespan, not for several days. She took a step towards where the blonde model would no doubt be sleeping, but then paused. She looked back to the child shinigami to order him to explain what was happening, what he was going to do—but by the time she whirled her head back in his direction, the door was slamming closed, and the shinigami was nowhere to be found.

Rem turned back to the door of the bedroom, which had been carefully closed and locked. But no matter—she drifted through the door, eyes locking on the face of Misa Amane, sleeping comfortably in her large, black-sheeted bed. The shinigami's eyes found those floating kanji above the head of the model, and a heavy feeling settled in the pit of Rem's stomach—at least, it would have, had she still possessed such a thing as a stomach.

"Misa…" she murmured, and though she knew that the model couldn't hear, she still tossed in her sleep, shivering slightly. Soundlessly, wordlessly, Rem moved to the side of the bed, looming over the human female she cared for so much. "Do not worry," she assured the sleeping girl. "I swore that I would protect you. This does not change that."

Misa turned again in her sleep. And as she did, those accusatory numbers floated above her head, twisting, turning, and speaking of things to come.

 **I dropped a pretty big hint as to the identity of the child shinigami in this chapter. I wonder if anyone figured it out…**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and be sure to drop me a review if you did!**


	16. Thunder Rising

**Welcome to chapter sixteen! Just so you know, this week I will be going on vacation with my mother, and therefore will not have time to post. The next update will be next Tuesday. Sorry :(**

 **To Blazedoll: I can't exactly tell you (or any of the other people who took a guess) if you're right about the child shinigami, but I can say with absolute certainty that L will be paying Rem a little visit in the near future…**

 **Chapter 16: Thunder Rising**

 _L stood on the roof of the task force headquarters, eyes scanning the horizon. It was raining, he noted, as tears from heaven left tiny droplets of moisture all over his face. How long had he been here? His hair was already soaked, plastered to his face and dripping endlessly. He was certain that his shirt was practically see-through now, and his jeans had turned a shade darker as they were pelted by water. He closed his eyes, face turned towards the sky, and basked in the pure misery of the darkened atmosphere. This… this is what he was used to. Solitude. He stretched out one arm to catch the water in his palm, then tilted his hand to watch the liquid run down his fingertips and drip to the soaked concrete below. This situation was very familiar, he noted. It was almost an exact replica of that night he'd spent with Light, lounging back on the rain-soaked rooftop and drinking. The only thing missing was…_

 _He heard the faint calling of a voice through the storm, and he swiftly turned his head to look for it. Oh… it was Light. Smiling bitterly, L recognized that now it really_ was _a perfect imitation of that night in the rain. And just like that night, Light's voice was lost to the storm as he parted his lips to speak. L smiled, cupping a hand to his ear and tilting his head slightly. And Light repeated the question, just as he had that night. He was still dry, L noticed, perfectly preserved. He found himself wanting to dirty that purity, splash rainwater all over those perfect clothes and hair. So he cupped his ear again, just as he was supposed to, and Light glared. He glared, but there was a hint of amusement there too. The perfect teen finally left the shelter of the doorway and trudged out to L, a smile plastered on his face. Unlike that night, he seemed perfectly fine, unaffected by that terrible pain he'd been feeling in his head at the time. With that little detail L seemed to have come to the end of the similarities—for when Light opened his mouth and spoke, the words weren't what they were supposed to be._

 _"What are you doing out here?" Light asked, one arm hooking around L's waist to pull him into a short embrace. "You're going to catch a cold if you go on like this!"_

 _L smiled up at Light, the heavy ache in his chest vanishing at the sight of the amber-eyed teen so close to him. "I suppose I will. Funny… I feel like something's missing here, don't you?"_

 _Light just grinned, pulling L close. "I wouldn't dwell on it, my love." He pressed himself to L, sealing their lips in a heated kiss. L frowned against Light's lips. Something was wrong. There was an itch at the back of his mind telling him that he must not trust Light, and it was growing stronger with every moment that he remained so close to his lover._

 _"Light," L insisted, his voice muffled by Light's lips. "Please—"_

 _The teen drew back a few inches, a dark chuckle escaping him. "What's wrong, L? Don't you love me?"_

 _L stared up at Light. His eyes were shielded by a wave of auburn hair, lips drawn back in an unnerving smile. Yes… something was very wrong here. "I love Light Yagami," L said hesitantly, struggling to lean back enough to get a look at the teen's eyes. The eyes were the window to the soul, after all. They would tell L who he was dealing with._

 _"Good. Then kiss me." Light's fingers pulled at L's belt as his lips went to the detective's neck. And again, something about his touch… it was wrong_.

 _"Let go of me!" L demanded. "Light, step back!"_

 _The teen paused. "No."_

 _"What do you mean, no?" L snapped, hands rising to push at Light's shoulders. When that failed he kicked at his shins. And when even that failed to remove the teen, L finally hauled off and punched the boy directly in the eye. Light yelped, staggering backwards, clutching at his face. And then he looked up, the curtain of hair falling away, and—_

 _"Kira!"_

 _"What are you talking about?" Kira purred, stalking closer, one hand covering his right eye, while the other one—colored a horrible, candy red—shimmered and gleamed maliciously. "I am Light. I am your lover! Don't you recognize me?"_

 _"You are not Light." L backed away. Kira advanced. Step for step, they moved across the rooftop._

 _"Oh, but I am!" Another step. Another. Another._

 _"Monster! Get away from me at once!" The rain had plastered Kira's hair to his face now as well, the cloudy sky and water-darkened hair making his red eye stand out all the more on his shadowed face. Kira finally removed his hand from over his other eye, and L wasn't surprised to see that while a bit swollen, it gleamed the same bloody color._

 _Step. Step. Kira shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered forward. "I don't think you want me to get away. I think you want me very, very close, my dear detective. You want me with you every second of the day, always. You want me to love you, and you want to love me."_

 _"You are not the one I love."_

 _Seemingly ignoring him, Kira stopped moving, and smirked, eyes darting to the space behind L. "Oh L…I knew you loved me, but I didn't think you'd be driven to the point of suicide after I ran away!"_

 _"What?"_

 _"Look behind you." Kira's voice took on a singsong quality._

 _L gulped. He turned his head, keeping one eye locked on Kira, and…_

Oh.

 _His heels brushed the edge of the rooftop. There was a ledge, of course, designed so that people couldn't just accidentally walk off. L was at that ledge, bending backwards over it by a few inches. And Kira was suddenly dangerously close, his chest nearly brushing L's. One of the teen's hands was at his waist, the other brushing across his jaw._

 _The god clicked his tongue condescendingly. "Oh, L… I'm going to kill you."_

 _Fear was building up in L's chest. His throat was constricting; breath was becoming harder and harder to take in. He couldn't respond to Kira, save for his labored breathing._

 _"Jump."_

 _L looked up at Kira in disbelief._

 _He leaned closer. "Jump, L. Step up on that ledge and splatter your pretty little insides all over the pavement below." He swiftly retreated, taking several steps back and striking the most innocent pose imaginable—one finger pressing to his pouting lips, a hand at his hip, his whole body slightly leaned to one side. He looked cute like that, L found. Almost like Light. "If you love me, then you'll jump."_

 _"I will not jump." And he said it because he didn't want to die, because he hated Kira. Something was still off, but his mind was so fuzzy, and he was so tired…_

 _"Then I suppose I'll just have to make you."_

 _And then they were fighting, fists flying at each other, kicks aiming for vital points, hands forcing each other towards the edge. Kira's hands were harsh, bruising L's hips and arms. But L was just as skilled a fighter, and Kira was bleeding from a split lip, and there were bruises splotched up and down his chest, clearly visible through the way his dress shirt was so suggestively unbuttoned. Blood dripped to the ground with every move the two made, droplets flinging away and disintegrating into the storm. But despite that, despite the increasing number of cuts and bruises, despite their worsening states, neither genius would back down. They seemed perpetually locked in this battle, in this never-ending cycle of violence._

 _And then there was a gun._

 _L wasn't sure where the gun had come from, or why it was suddenly clutched in his hands, but it was there, and he was pointing it at Kira, and—_

 _Bang!_

 _The world went still. Save for the slight echo of the gunshot, everything was quiet. And Kira was watching L, and L was watching Kira, and… there was blood. Blood was dripping down Kira's shirt from the clean bullet wound in his chest, pooling around his feet as it reached the ground. Those red eyes were watching L with something akin to surprise and hurt. And of course he would seem hurt, when L had aimed that gun straight for his heart and pulled the trigger._

 _"L…" Kira rasped, blood on his lips. "I never thought you'd have the nerve…" And then he was falling, hitting the ground with a dull thud, head lolling limply on his shoulders. Despite himself, L moved to that body and knelt beside him, rolling him onto his back and looking into those red eyes._

 _But… they weren't red._

 _What?_

 _L felt a wave of confusion spike through him as he stared into amber eyes. Those amber eyes rolled in his head as blood pooled, and finally they came to rest on L._

 _"L…" It was Light. Light was the one lying there, Light was the one he had shot._

 _"Light!" L's hands were in his lover's hair, wasting precious moments before he came to his senses and shot them down to his lover's chest, covering the bullet wound and attempting to stem the flow of scarlet. "Oh god, Light—but you were Kira, and you—!"_

 _Light's eyes were cold, furious. "I thought you loved me." He pushed L away with strength beyond his battered form and was on his feet in an instant, towering over L, who was still leaning back on his elbows to look up into his lover's face. Blood poured from the teen's chest in unnatural amounts, fountaining downwards and splashing the rooftop with scarlet, scarlet so thick and copious that not even the pouring rain could wash it away. "You said that you loved me, L… and you decided to kill me? You gave up on me… you gave up! You chose Kira over me, you bastard!" Light had a knife. Where had it come from? He brandished the weapon at L, backing him up towards the ledge, copying Kira's movements from mere minutes ago. "I was going to protect you, you know… I was going to do anything and everything to save you. But now, after this? I can't even trust my first and only love." The knife slashed, and L felt a spike of pain in his stomach. Blood. More blood. L choked as the scarlet liquid overwhelmed him, and he knew somewhere deep within his mind that such a shallow wound to the stomach shouldn't make blood spurt from his mouth—it wasn't right, wasn't possible—but his mind wouldn't accept it._

 _He was backed up against the ledge again. Blood was everywhere, on both geniuses. And then, Light, the bastard, leaned in, and kissed him. He kissed him once, briefly, through the blood dripping from his lips, and then drew back with a grin. Some of that scarlet liquid dribbled down his chin, and spattered onto the rooftop, visible for mere moments before the rain diluted it beyond recognition._

 _"Goodbye, my love," Light whispered, raising his hand to L's chest. One push was all it took, and the detective fell. He fell forever, through darkness, through rain, blood surrounding him in a murderous halo. He fell through the ground, and then through the void, until there was fire all around him, and some horrible creature was staring him in the face and laughing endlessly, and—_

L jolted up in bed with a gasp.

He half expected to feel familiar hands at his shoulders, shaking him lightly to awaken him from the nightmare. He thought, if only for a moment, that he would look up and see Light hovering over him in concern. But reality was swift to crash into him, and L fell back against the pillows with a huff as he remembered—Light was gone. And that dream…L shuddered, the image of Light leering down at him all-too fresh in his mind. _It was just a dream,_ he reminded himself. _Nothing more. I didn't really kill Light… I wouldn't kill him. I wouldn't!_ For several moments L just laid there, eyes locked onto the ceiling. Then he turned his head and looked around.

It was still night, judging by the darkened atmosphere. Matt and Mello were curled up next to each other, dead asleep, and Near was in much the same state. L slowly got to his feet and headed for the door. He moved as if in a daze, almost completely silent as not to wake his successors. He succeeded, closing the door with a soft click, then continued down the hall. As he walked, he found himself unable to quiet his racing mind.

 _This will help,_ L reasoned. _I'll go to the investigation room and work for a bit. That will make me feel better, I'm sure. I'll see what Kira and Beyond have been up to, and I'll pull together whatever data I can. If I'm not going to be able to sleep, then I'll at least do something useful._

L winced as he realized that doing something _useful_ entailed bringing someone he loved to justice. Or at least, the shell of someone he loved. _Maybe I can find a way out. If I can just find out where he is and capture him, then perhaps I'll be able to find some sort of solution, a way to purge Kira from Light's mind. But I won't be able to do much so long as the successors want to kill him the instant we catch him. I'll be hard pressed to find a way around them. Maybe I can snatch Kira from their clutches before they have a chance to deliver him to the authorities. If I do that, then I'll be able to work on getting rid of him without the pressure of my successors attempting to have him executed. Or if I can't do that, then perhaps I'll have to find a way to ask a shinigami how I can get rid of Kira by other means. The only method I_ know _will work involves Light giving up possession—and now that Kira is in control, I feel quite certain in the assumption that he will not do such a thing. But if I do manage to capture Kira and detain him without the successor's knowledge, perhaps I will be able to torture him into giving it up._ L cut himself off suddenly, clasping a hand over his mouth to hold down the bile rising in his throat. The thought of purposefully bringing harm to Light, even if he was possessed by Kira…it was revolting. He knew immediately that he wouldn't be able to do it. _Besides…even if I go through with torturing him, there's no way Kira will ever break. He'd die, so to speak, if he gave up possession, since Light would forget him altogether—but he would also die if he refused to give up the notebook, for he'd no doubt end up being executed. And if it's a choice between dying alone or taking Light with him, I have no doubt which option he'll choose._

L groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. _I have a dark, terrible feeling that there is no other way. And if that's the case…_ There would really be no way out of this. Once he located Kira and Beyond…then, perhaps, he would be able to find a way to get rid of Kira once and for all, but…it was so _unlikely_. He found himself caught; caught between foolish, desperate hope and pessimistic realism. Looking up, L found himself looking upon the door to the investigation room. He reached out a hand and tugged the door open.

When L walked into the room, it was pitch black. Clearly everyone had gone home. Frowning deeply, the detective moved further into the darkened space, eyes searching over the floor. It seemed that Watari had not yet cleaned up the glass from the shattered computer screen—nor had he cleaned up the blood. As he neared his desk, L's features twisted disgustedly as his eyes fell upon said glass. He hadn't realized it when it had happened; he'd been far too shaken up—but he noticed now, with an ironic sort of amusement, that Kira's shot had shattered the screen of Light's computer. That computer, the one he'd worked at day in and day out for upwards of a year, was completely unusable now. Not just that, but the shards of glass were coated in sticky, drying blood. L's blood. The detective jerked his head away from the sight. He couldn't use his normal computer, not when it was so close to such a scene. Instead, he moved further into the room, thankful that all the computers in the investigation room shared the same information and files.

It wasn't until he came upon a hideously large splatter of blood that he realized where he'd walked. His footsteps had carried him to the desk nearest the door. The desk where Aizawa had been shot and killed. And just as Watari hadn't yet cleaned up the glass, he certainly hadn't cleaned up the pool of blood. _At least the body is gone,_ L thought morbidly. That, at least, Watari had taken care of. He wondered vaguely where the inventor had taken Aizawa's body, and whether or not his family had been informed. He'd had a wife and daughter, after all. _I'll have to ask Watari to secure their financial future; the last thing they need is to have to worry about monetary issues after the death of their family member._ L's eyes locked on the splatter of blood as he began to move away, and for a moment he found himself disturbingly captivated by the pool of red. It was horrifying, he thought, that the scarlet liquid sprayed out before him had once been part of a living, breathing human. All that blood had once kept one of his subordinates alive. It made him more conscious than ever of the fact that human life always ended the same way—with a sudden, unexpected jolt of the heart, and a last, gasping breath. It would be the same for him, he knew. One day, he too would end up just like Aizawa. As would Watari. As would Near. As would Light. As would anyone and everyone who possessed the cruel temptress known as life.

Forcing his thoughts away from the morbid subject, L finally turned away from the blood and moved to the computer that was normally occupied by Matsuda. He seated himself in the comfortable chair and clicked on the monitor, then turned on the computer itself. It whirred happily as it came to life, the noise acting as a contradiction to L's dark mood. The computer swiftly brought up a list of folders. Each folder had the name of one of the task force members, and each one contained a collection of work that that particular member had compiled. At the end of each day, all new work was synced with that person's folder, meaning that should a computer be destroyed, none of the work would be lost. L immediately moved to his own file and opened it. Several windows popped up immediately—windows that L had been searching through when Mello had called him over to talk. L was instantly bathed in the harsh glow of charts and data. He closed them without a second thought—he had no use for them; Light had already been snatched away, so he didn't need to do research on multiple personalities anymore. Though, he thought, Kira was no ordinary personality, and he doubted that any of the information would have been able to help him.

L frowned suddenly. He remembered the way Light—no, the way _Kira_ had been working so hard at his computer the previous day. He'd clearly been focused, far too much so for it to have been an act. What had he been working on? L reached over to the computer beside Matsuda's and switched it on, accessing Light's folder without a word. _Hmm? What's this?_

The folder had been completely wiped out. And since the daily sync had already happened, that meant there would be no way to access whatever Kira had been working on. L cursed internally. He had a dark feeling that whatever the teen had been working on had been quite important. Otherwise, there would have been no use for erasing all his data.

So yet another one of his attempts had turned out to be useless. Growling furiously, L switched off the other computer and returned to Matsuda's. He began pulling up countless news sites, police records, and morgue registries. If Kira had begun killing in a way that would leave a message, then this is how he would find out. It didn't take him long to gather pages of information—he may have been shaken up, but he still possessed the ability to create charts filled with all the data from Kira's victims.

"L?"

L jolted up in his chair, swiveling around to locate the source of the voice. "Ah," he said, locating the elderly man standing in the doorway. "Watari. I presume you were watching the security footage?"

Watari walked slowly forward, standing at attention a few feet away from L. "I was." A pause. "I wish for you to rest. After all, you have just undergone a terrible loss."

L turned his gaze back on the monitor. "I cannot rest. I must find Light." _I must find a way to rid him of the disease that is Kira._

The look on Watari's face went from concerned to pitying in a heartbeat. "Oh, L, I realize how broken you must be over this, but you must understand that Light is gone."

"He's still in there," L protested, even though he had looked at this case from every imaginable angle, and figured that even if Light was somewhere within Kira's head, it was very unlikely that he'd be able to regain full control unless he relinquished possession of the Death Note—which again, was terribly unlikely. But even with his understanding of his situation, L couldn't bring himself to verbally admit it. He was in denial. He knew he was in denial. But he couldn't seem to pull the wool from his eyes. "I will track Kira down and find a way to purge him from Light's mind at all costs."

Watari's stance deflated, his fingers rising to the bridge of his nose. "You are exhausted. After some rest we should discuss this again."

"I have already rested," L said. "Speaking to me now as opposed to in the morning will not change my stance on this. I will get Light back."

"L, surely you understand—"

"Look at this, Watari." L jabbed a finger at the screen, gesturing to the information he'd managed to compile. "The Kira killings have increased enormously in the past few hours. Kira and Beyond are already acting. But they aren't using the usual victims." He pointed to one of the two columns of information. "All of the victims in this column are criminals. They're Kira's normal victims. But _these_ victims…" he pointed to the other group of names, faces, and times. "These people were all innocent—and there's an exponentially greater amount than the number of criminals. So why… why are they killing like this? Kira has always been obsessed with justice. He wouldn't just start offing innocents."

"Perhaps you should consult with your successors on the matter. _In the morning."_

That almost made L smile. Almost. "If I cannot crack this riddle tonight, then I will consult them when they awaken."

Watari sighed. "I see that you cannot be reasoned with."

"No, I am afraid not. Instead of berating me, perhaps you should sterilize the floors. They are, after all, coated in glass and blood."

The inventor shook his head wearily. "Very well, L. That is what I came down here to do in the first place, after all. But please, do not deprive yourself of basic life necessities. You _must_ eat and sleep."

L offered his old mentor a sad smile. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to do either, unfortunately."

Watari mirrored L's smile with one of his own, responding, "I figured you'd say as much. If that is what you wish, then I will allow you to do as you please. But be warned—I will not allow you to self destruct. Should your condition dip below the point of manageability, then I will be forced to remove you from your position as L. I told you before that should you become unable to perform as the detective you are meant to be, then I would gladly take you out of action—and that hasn't changed."

"Yes, I am aware. And I intend to keep that from happening."

The inventor dipped his head in acknowledgement. And then, without another word, he turned for the door, presumably to procure the necessary cleaning supplies.

The instant he was out of sight, L turned back to the monitor. He stared blankly at the charts, eyes raking over the information he'd compiled over the past few minutes. Information that he had no idea what to do with. He…he was lost. He didn't know what to do next. And when L didn't know what to do, he researched. And so that was what he did. He sat there, bathed in the sickly pale light of the monitor, and researched anything and everything he could, all while images of a beautiful amber-haired boy floated through his mind.

†††

Near and the other successors entered the investigation room the next morning, well before the task force arrived, only to find L sitting at one of the computers. His eyes were slightly glazed, and he was slumped over tiredly. Watari was seated next to him. The inventor's eyes flickered up to meet those of the successors. He rose, presumably figuring that L would be safe in the hands of his successors, and left.

"L?" Near asked, moving forward. "Are you okay?"

L shook himself, turning to face them. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and his thumb was between his teeth. He looked crazed, with that dull gleam in his eyes. The successors were immediately concerned.

"Are you well?" Near asked. Both him and the other successors knew all too well that Kira's departure had left him badly shaken; he'd barely been able to function the night before. It wasn't much of a surprise to see him looking so torn up now, not after everything he'd been forced to endure the previous day. Kira had beaten him, had beaten them all. It was as simple as that. And now L was being forced to pull himself back from a crushing defeat, a defeat that had left him without a lover.

"Successors," L said sharply, jabbing a finger in their direction. "I have a riddle for you to solve."

"A riddle?" This was from Matt. "You're trying to solve riddles when Kira and Beyond are no doubt on a rampage?"

"Just one," L murmured. "Mere hours after Kira took control, he began killing people again. But he isn't killing criminals. He's killing everyone, even innocents with no criminal history. Why is this? Is it that Beyond is the one murdering civilians, and Kira has no knowledge of it? Is that why Kira's killing patterns have changed? Or is it that Kira is sending me a message of sorts? But if that is the case, what is it? I haven't noticed any patterns in times of death, or words spelled out in the names…"

The successors exchanged concerned glances. Had L's mental state really degraded so far that he couldn't even solve this puzzle?

Mello cleared this throat awkwardly. "Well, if Kira and Light were once the same person, but were separated, and if Kira is evil and Light is good, then it makes sense that Light was the one providing Kira's sense of justice while they were the same person. Once two personalities were created, everything good was pushed into the Light personality, and all the bad was pushed into the Kira personality."

"To put it simply, Kira no longer has Light to hold him back," Matt spoke up. "And even if Kira isn't the one killing innocents, that would still mean that he's ordered Beyond to do it. It just proves how far Kira has fallen. And what's more, this is most likely a distraction. There's no doubt that Kira and Beyond are putting together a plan, and don't want you to get the better of them before they have a chance to execute it. If they've done something so bold as this, then they're almost definitely trying to draw your attention away from their plans."

Near continued, "And even if Kira is still desperate to create a perfect world, then he can easily rationalize this course of action—after all, if the deaths of hundreds of innocents distracts the great L long enough for the god of the new world to accomplish the creation of said world, then the sacrifice of those lives would be completely justified. They would be martyrs, sacrificial lambs led to the slaughter, all for the sake of the new world. Kira must be saying to himself, _I am doing this so that a perfect world can come into existence, so it can't be evil. So long as the deaths of a few benefit the lives of the many, then what I am doing can't possibly be called murder._ Or more interestingly, perhaps he realizes that what he is doing is evil, and believes that becoming a criminal is worth it if it means creating a world without crime. To be quite honest, there's no telling what state of mind he's in right now."

L's eyes widened further and further with each word Near spoke. "Of course… " he whispered. "I didn't think of that." He dropped his head to his hands. "My mental state… it has degraded, hasn't it? If I wasn't able to solve a puzzle that you put together in seconds…"

"You're just upset," Near comforted. "Please, rest. We'll take you back to your room, you'll rest, and when you wake up we'll have a lead."

"A lead on what, exactly?" L asked dully. "What are you planning to do?"

Hesitation.

"We are going to catch Kira and Beyond," Near said at last. "I explained it to you last night, L." He had not, however, explained it to the other successors, thus the strange looks they were giving him. He moved to L and helped him stand, not at all surprised when the detective wavered.

L pushed him away harshly. "I can walk by myself, thank you." And although he was shaky, he headed for the door. Near followed him without a word, while Matt and Mello stayed behind to look at what he'd been working on.

Matt shook his head, observing the various charts L had been furiously typing up. Causes of death paired with criminal records and location, and various other bits of information. "I'm growing concerned," he murmured.

Mello leaned over Matt's shoulder and locked his gaze on the monitor. "Yeah, so am I. But there's not a whole lot we can do, is there? We both know that Light isn't coming back, so this is just something L's going to have to learn to live with."

"Well, he can't live with it until he _knows_ Light is gone for good. He'll keep looking until then." Matt's voice was unusually soft.

Mello snorted, "He can't live with it until he knows Light is dead, huh? In that case it seems that we should just hunt him down and kill him as fast as we can. That way L won't have to be in pain for longer than is necessary. Near's probably come to the same conclusion."

Matt closed his eyes, expression twisting painfully. "No, he wouldn't decide something like that without telling us…right?"

"There's no telling what's going on inside that head of his," Mello snapped. Then, clearly seeing his lover's distress, he went on, "Hey…we'll talk to Near when he comes back, okay? We'll devise a plan and put your mind at ease."

Nodding uneasily, Matt turned away. "Funny…" he laughed without humor. "I get the feeling that this plan of ours isn't going to be very favorable." He looked back at Mello, waited for his lover to laugh and exclaim, _that's ridiculous, of course it's going to be favorable, favorable for everyone involved! Everything is going to work out perfectly!_ But he didn't, and when Matt turned back to the computer monitor, his stomach refused to unclench, and his expression wouldn't untwist from its pained state.

†††

About ten minutes later, all three successors found themselves gathered in the still-empty investigation room. All was silent save for the soft puffs of noise that accompanied their breath, and the soft clicks and taps as Matt poked halfheartedly at his Gameboy. His heart clearly wasn't in it. For a long couple of minutes, none of the three spoke. They stared, be it at the ground, a wall, or the screen of a handheld gaming system, and thought. There were obvious topics to be discussed, but none of them wanted to open their mouths and let fly the words of condemnation.

Mello was the one to break the silence. "We need to talk about this."

Sill, there was silence. It wasn't for another few moments that Near spoke, his question echoing darkly around the room. "What did you want to discuss?"

"First off, you should tell us what you said to L," Mello requested.

Near shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, yes…I apologize for not conversing with you on the matter first, but I felt that I had the authority to speak for the three of us. Last night, after I sent the two of you to move the beds into your room, I told L of our plan."

"What?" Mello demanded furiously. "Just what the hell did you tell him our plan was? And why didn't you tell _us_ what our plan was?"

Dipping his head, Near responded, "You have my sincerest apologies. As I said, I felt that I had the authority to speak for us all. And I fear that my mind may not have been at its sharpest. I was…emotionally rattled, so to speak. As for what I told L…I informed him that we were going to hunt down Kira and Beyond and turn them in to the authorities."

Matt's thumbs froze over the buttons of his game. "Light will die if that happens."

"Yes, that's the point. As unfortunate as it is, I do not believe it would be beneficial for us to let him live any longer. He has been possessed by Kira, and the only way for him to return to normal that we know of is for him to relinquish possession of the notebook. And since that is clearly not going to happen, I told L that we would simply find Kira and Beyond and have them executed."

Matt's voice was dangerously low as he spoke. "There may be another way. We don't know for sure that Light can't be brought back. We should at least attempt to find a way to rescue him before we haul off and pump his skull with lead!"

"Matt…" Near murmured. "I recognize that you became friends with the Yagami boy, but he is no longer the person you knew. Or have you forgotten the way he threatened to kill you? Or the way he raised that gun to Aizawa's head and plugged a bullet through his brain? If Light was still in there, do you really think he'd let that happen?"

"Forget that—you shouldn't have told L that we were going to kill his lover!" Matt burst out furiously. "Have you no heart?"

"Would you rather me have lied to him?"

"Hell, you should have done _anything_ else! You should have lied, you should have told him it was all a dream, you should have _comforted_ him, not told him that you were going to have Light executed!"

"He is Kira," Near reminded him tonelessly. "I don't like it any more than you do, but we have no choice in the matter."

"There's always a choice," Matt responded harshly. "We have the choice to detain him and find a way to rid him of Kira for good!"

There was a sudden burst of movement, drawing Matt and Near's gaze to the space beside them. Mello had pushed himself off the desk he was leaning against remarkably fast, and was shooting the floor a death glare. He'd remained surprisingly quiet for the duration of the little spat between the other two successors. But now he stood, spine rigid, arms crossed over his chest, and glowered down at his lover. "Shut up."

"Mello—!"

" _No_ , Matt." He stalked across the few feet separating him from Matt and curled his hands in the other teen's collar, yanking him so close that their lips were mere centimeters from brushing. "That bastard tried to _kill_ you. He _would_ have killed you if that gun had been properly loaded. So there's no way… no way in _hell_ that I'm letting him live. If we find him, I'll shoot him myself without a second thought. I'll make him pay for what he did to you!"

"Mello…" Matt trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. "You can't…"

"I can and I will." He jerked his head to one side, glaring over at Near. "Let me make this perfectly clear. I don't care about our plan, whatever it may turn out to be. All I care about is pressing a gun to Kira's pretty little head and pulling the trigger. He'll pay for this if it's the last thing I do!"

Near dipped his head, eyes slipping closed momentarily. "You've always been so emotional…"

"So what if I am?" The blonde spat furiously. "You're the supposed to be the brains and I'm supposed to be the heart, right? We're supposed to work so _well_ together…at least, that's what should happen in theory."

"We _would_ work well together if you could just stop trying to one-up me."

Mello's lips curled in a nasty snarl, a low growl building in his throat. He was clearly ready to spit forth a venomous response, but Matt cut him off.

"Stop it, both of you!" he ordered harshly. "We have bigger things to discuss than your petty rivalry!"

The other two successors froze, both staring at him with wide eyes. It was quite unusual for Matt to take such an interest in their little spats.

Near was the one to back down first. He tore his gaze away from the third ranked successor, lowering his line of vision to his bare feet. "Very well. My apologies to the both of you."

"Yeah, whatever…" Mello muttered. "But my position hasn't changed! I'll kill that little brat, I swear it!"

"I don't agree with your emotional take on this whole situation," Near said, his tone low. "However, I more than agree with your stance on killing Kira. As I told L last night, I think the most obvious course of action would be to make sure Kira is executed before he has the chance to harm anyone else. But we must be careful how we go about it. While it may not be strictly necessary, having L and the task force's help will be beneficial to us—and neither will be eager to help us find Kira and Beyond if they think we're just going to kill them. It will take some convincing in order to gain their aid."

"Then we'll make up some bullshit about how we want nothing more than to save Light!" Mello snapped.

"It won't work," Near reminded him. "I've already revealed our intentions to L. He won't believe us if we just start proclaiming our desire to rescue Kira at all costs. As unfortunate as it is, it appears that both you and Matt were right—I should have waited to say anything to him until we devised a real plan. If I had, then this would be much easier."

Mello snorted, "Don't act like an idiot next time."

Narrowing his eyes, Near responded, "There will not be a next time, so it will not happen again. But we can't dwell on it—the fact is, a mistake was made, and now it is our job to maneuver around it. And I think I know what we should tell L and the task force to remedy my error. I've been thinking about this case rather hard, you see. Am I correct in saying that Light's memories returned when he touched the notebook?"

Mello frowned, clearly not following where Near was going. "Yeah, that sounds right."

"Then what would happen, I wonder, if we destroyed the notebook? Would it be the same as relinquishing possession?

"You're thinking of this _now?"_ Mello yelped. "Now, after Kira has taken the Death Note and fled? Why the hell didn't you think of this when we still had the damn notebook?"

"My mind was otherwise occupied. But that's beside the point—if I'm correct, and destroying the notebook is the equivalent of giving up ownership, then our problem has been solved for us."

Mello's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh!" he gasped out. "I understand. We can't let L or the task force know that we want to kill Kira and Beyond—but we need their help to locate them. And we can't just pretend to want to bring them in alive, because you've already told L that we intend to kill them both. Therefore, we need a cover. We need something that will put both L and the task force off, something that will convince L that we really do want to help Light. And this could be just what we need." He jabbed a finger at Near for emphasis. "You want to tell L and the task force that destroying the notebook will get rid of Kira and leave Light unharmed. If you do that, then you've created the perfect cover for our desire to locate them and get close enough to shoot—because, of course, in order for us to destroy the notebook, we'll _have_ to get close. Knowing that, L and the task force will eagerly help us locate them, and won't have any doubts when we move in close enough to shoot."

Near nodded. "Exactly. Once we find them, it will be a simple matter of entering the building before anyone else and shooting the both of them before L and the task force have a chance to protest."

"It could work!" Mello exclaimed eagerly. "But what about L? That won't really convince him, will it?"

Twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, Near murmured, "L is mentally unstable. I have no doubt that he has already formed countless plans involving snatching Kira away from us and experimenting until he finds a way to purge him from Light's mind. But if we give him a way that we think will work—destroying the notebook—then I have no doubt that his attention will fall entirely on that. He'll be so consumed by the idea that he can save his lover that he'll completely overlook our real plan. I don't think he'll even suspect that we have our own agenda, especially not if I give him my best apology and tell him that this way is sure to work."

"Wait!" Matt broke in. He'd been sitting in silence, watching the conversation between his two friends as he would a tennis match. "If you think destroying the notebook will work, then why don't we just do that instead? If it's easy to destroy it, then there's no need to just _kill_ him, right? We could save Light, and we wouldn't have to kill anyone to do it!"

Near responded, "Unfortunately, it is quite unlikely that we will manage to get that close to either notebook without Kira or Beyond killing us. It is safer if we shoot them at a distance before they have a chance to realize what we're up to."

"No!" Matt insisted. "No, Kira and Beyond aren't just going to kill us like that. You know how much the two of them love drama. They want to play with us before they eat us. They're not going to cut their game short just because we're getting close. And I'm sure Kira wants to _destroy_ L for making Light fall in love with him. After all, that's what ruined his perfect host body. He won't kill us until he's made L suffer. So that means there'll be nothing stopping us from trying to destroy the notebook!"

"We don't even know if destroying the Death Note will actually work," Mello reminded him harshly. "It's just an assumption—we could be entirely wrong! It would be foolish for us to risk our lives on a fact that may not be a _fact_ at all. It's easier and safer for us to shoot on sight, and from a distance. Matt, you're supposed to be _genius._ So _act like it._ You know as well as I do that this is the only way we can be certain that we'll keep our own lives and end Kira's evil.

"L will be devastated!" Matt protested.

"You said it yourself," Mello snapped. "The sooner L realizes thatLight _—Kira—_ is gone for good, the sooner that devastation will fade. The sooner this all ends, the sooner he'll be able to begin the healing process, and the sooner he'll be able to go back to his job as L. Because let's face it, he's not exactly performing at one-hundred percent at the moment."

"No," Near agreed. "Decidedly not. You're correct, Mello—in order for L to return to his former self as swift as possible, Kira must be killed—and it must happen soon." His gaze flickered to the third ranked successor, and he continued, "Matt, I realize how difficult this is for you. I realize that you were friends with Light Yagami. But the fact remains that he is no longer the person he once was. He tried to kill you, and should that opportunity arise once more, he will without fail choose to pull the trigger—and this time, the gun will be loaded."

"No…" Matt attempted desperately.

"Matt." Near stepped forward slowly, one hand shooting out, tilting the successor's head up so that their eyes were forced to meet. "What if it had been Mello?"

He blinked. "What?"

"What if it had been Mello?" Near repeated. "What if you had been the one chained to the desk, and Mello had been the one with the gun pressed to the side of his head? What if you'd thought _he_ would be the one killed instead of you? Would you still be so eager to defend Kira?"

A flicker of anger shot through Matt's eyes as he no doubt pictured the image Near was describing.

"It is a wide-accepted truth that death is easier than life. When you looked into Kira's eyes and thought that you were going to die, you accepted it, no matter how terrified you may have been at the time. And because of that terror and acceptance, you failed to find anger. You refused to become angry with Kira. But Mello was on the other side of that equation. He saw that your death was close, and he knew that he would be forced to continue living without you—something that is, no doubt, harder than being the one that is killed. And so, when faced with the horrifying thought of a future alone, he became furious with Kira. He became _more_ than furious, all because Kira was the one who would be subjecting him to that lonely fate. This, you understand, is why Mello is so set on killing Kira. And if you had been on the other end of the proceedings, if _you_ had been the one contemplating life alone, then you would feel much the same way. Don't pretend that you didn't just feel a spike of anger at the thought, Matt. You know it just as well as I do; that boy must die. The only thing stopping you is the thought that you knew him as Light rather than Kira—a thought, I might add, that would have vanished had you been in Mello's position."

Matt's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His head dipped towards the floor, seemingly weighed down with sorrow, but it was terribly obvious just how furious he was. Furious because he wanted to look no further than Kira's innocent mask, furious because he didn't want to take part in the terrible deception Near and Mello were suggesting—and above all, furious because he knew that Near was right. He knew that had he been in Mello's position, he would be screaming for Kira's head. "You…" he tried, his voice cracking miserably.

"It's okay," Near said shortly. "If you are concerned about Light believing that you have betrayed him, then you have nothing to fear—I can assure you, he will feel no such thing. He begged for death, remember? He pleaded with L to end his life before Kira took hold once more. If anything, Light believed that you—that _all of_ us—were betraying him the entire time we left him alive and possessed by Kira. But now, our decision to finally grant his wish and kill him will erase our past betrayal. He _wants_ this, Matt. He wants to die, wants to atone for his sins in the only way he knows how. What we will do is not an act of murder, but an act of mercy. We will release him from the bonds he longs to throw off."

The noise that left Matt's throat was strangled, pained. He stayed that way, head bowed, nails biting into his palms, for a long moment. His whole body shook, tremors wracking his form terribly. But even through the shaking, even through the soft, pained noises, Near and Mello were able to recognize the short nod that gave his assent. _Do it,_ he seemed to be hissing, reluctant though it was. _If it is the only way…I will go along with your plan to kill him._

"We're in agreement, then," Near said softly, eyes resting on Matt's shaking form. "We'll kill Kira on sight. And when the task force and L are gathered in the investigation room, we'll lie to them. We'll lie about our real plan."

Mello nodded darkly. "No questions asked."

Matt looked away sharply, unease painting his features. But despite his obvious displeasure, he said nothing. He too, it seemed, had realized that the war he was waging was pointless. The pieces of the game were already in motion, and nothing he did would be able to stop them.

The successors would attempt to kill Kira, hiding their true intentions from the L and the task force. L would attempt to save Light while under the impression that destroying the Death Note would save him. The task force would work with L and the successors, clueless as to what was really going on. And Kira and Beyond would attempt to kill them all.

"It seems that the stage has been set, then," Mello said coolly, uncrossing his arms as he headed for the door. "Let's see how this plays out, shall we?"

†††

About five hours after the task force arrived, L was right back where he always was, in front of his computer in the investigation room. He had clearly been exhausted, seeing as he fell asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow. But nightmares plagued him. He shuddered as he recalled his most current dream—him and Light back up on the rooftop, much like his first nightmare. But this time Light was the one who pulled out a gun and shot _him,_ then laughed and stood over him as he died. Or, actually, it might have been Kira who shot him. It was becoming more and more difficult to tell the two of them apart.

"We need to discuss our plan."

Ah, yes. Near had practically taken over the investigation, seeing as L was hardly in a position from which to command the task force.

The task force…they were in bad shape. All of them were completely frazzled from the events of the previous day. Despite the fact that they no doubt longed for an explanation, none of them had dared to request one just yet. It was as if they were keeping their sanity contained in walls of glass, and any words of inquiry would shatter that glass beyond recognition.

"What's the point of developing a plan?" That was from Soichiro. "My son is Kira." And that, at least, he had figured out for himself.

But he didn't know the full truth. No one on the task force knew about Kira being another personality within Light. And as much as L despised the thought of giving away Light's secret, it seemed as if it were the most logical course of action.

Near seemed to be of the same mind. "You will understand why we need to formulate a plan so badly once you have the same information as us. It is time that you know the truth."

This made Soichiro look up. "You have information that you have withheld from us?"

"Woah," Matsuda gasped, "Really, Ryuzaki? You're withholding information?"

The name sent a shard of ice straight to L's heart. It was fake. "You don't have to call me that anymore," he rasped. "Kira already has my name, so long as he is working with Beyond. And, of course, he knows my face. You should just call me L, at least while we're in here."

The successors seemed alarmed by this, but none of them said anything about it. Instead, Matt stepped forward, addressing the task force. "It is true that we have withheld information, but from this point on we will share all of our information and ideas on the matter." He glanced back at L. "Care to explain?"

He was asking _him_ to explain? That was rich. L shook his head without a word, gesturing vaguely to Near.

The first ranked successor seemed to understand. He nodded shortly and began to speak. In the next thirty minutes Near went on to describe everything that had happened over the past several months. First he described, in detail, the rules and stipulations of the Death Note—the task force had already been informed of the basic components of the notebook, but they hadn't been told the specifics. Then he documented how weak Light had been after his confinement. He described how he had fallen ill, and how Beyond had assumed due to L and Light's living situation that they were romantically attracted to one another, and how that along with Light's former identity as Kira had lead him to want to capture him. He spoke of Beyond's determination to take Light away only after an expression of love had been shared between the teen and the detective he was chained to.

Soichiro choked indignantly at this, but no one paid him any heed.

Near explained how Beyond had captured Light and subjected him to the Death Note, returning to him his memories. He went into detail on how the notebook had created split personalities within Light, and shared that when the teen had been confined to his room, he was really fighting off Kira. Near recounted the constant battle Light had waged against Kira, and how his mental and physical state had degraded steadily over a time period of almost two weeks. And finally, the task force was told of how Kira finally wrenched control and threatened Matt in order to regain his Death Note.

"Wait, wait!" Soichiro protested. "That doesn't make sense. Near, you said that Beyond was waiting for confirmation of L's alleged _feelings—"_ (He looked as if he had swallowed something sour.) "—Then why the hell did he kidnap Light before that confirmation was achieved?" He was completely stone-faced, unwavering in his certainty that a love confession between his son and L had not, under _any circumstances_ , taken place.

Near glanced at L awkwardly, uncertain of how much the detective wanted him to say.

L glared at Soichiro, getting to his feet.

"L?" Matt asked nervously. "Are you okay?"

L's fists clenched at his sides, his entire body quaking in anger. Was it really so unbelievable that L and Light were together? Did Soichiro hate him so much that he was disgusted by the thought that he had feelings for Light? "You want to know…" he rasped, "… why Beyond kidnaped him?"

It wasn't just the successors looking concerned now. The task force, all of whom had already been wearing expressions of mild worry before L's startling behavior, and whose expressions had only grown more uneasy as he continued speaking, looked downright terrified.

"L, please," Mello started, moving towards him. "Just calm down. We know you miss your friend, but—"

"I am in love with Light Yagami," L declared.

Silence.

The task force was completely silent. Matsuda's jaw appeared to have come unhinged, Mogi's eyebrows had practically shot up into his hairline, and Soichiro…well, there was no describing the way _he_ looked. Even the successors appeared surprised, though they already knew the nature of the relationship between Soichiro's son and L.

"Did you just say—?" Soichiro choked on thin air, one hand rising to his chest. L was reminded of Soichiro's heart attack early on in the case, and was momentarily concerned that he was going to have a repeat incident. That was really the last thing he needed; accidentally getting Light's father killed. "Are you seriously saying that—?" He didn't seem able to complete a sentence.

"Yes," L affirmed. "I wasn't going to tell you, but it seems apparent that you won't understand the true nature of this case until you know everything." L locked eyes with his lover's father. "You don't know the backstory, so to say, of this case."

"L, you don't have to do this," Matt said softly. "It's enough to say that you're romantically involved, just leave it at that!"

"No. You must know everything," L insisted. "This whole thing started because of my inability to control my emotions. They deserve to know."

None of the successors seemed happy. But they still backed down, allowing L to tell his story.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath. He had to do this. He had to tell the truth. "I became attracted to Light shortly after the beginning of our time chained together." L could have laughed at the uncomfortable look on Soichiro's face. "I had never encountered someone on the same level as me, and I became drunk on that rare privilege, to have a conversation that was truly, intellectually challenging. So when Light got sick, I was very concerned. I treated him more like a precious gem than a sick acquaintance, and those… _non-platonic_ displays were what made Beyond think there was something between us. Once Light recovered I spoke to him of my sentiment towards him, and he returned my confession eagerly. That confession is most likely what made Beyond decide to abduct Light." Well, that and the physical intimacy they had shared shortly afterwards. But L wouldn't tell Soichiro that; he didn't want him to pass out on the floor of the investigation room.

Soichiro was shaking. "So…" he ground out. "You were the one who got my son kidnaped. It's your fault." His voice was dangerously soft, and his eyes, though hidden behind his glasses, were no doubt narrowed furiously.

"There's more." L didn't know what possessed him to keep speaking. The situation was already bad enough… but perhaps his strong sense of justice was kicking in, insisting that he be punished by _someone_ for what he'd allowed to happen to Light. "When Kira was fighting to take over Light's mind, he was in terrible agony. He was in pain every hour of the day, completely bedridden—and he begged me to kill him, to end his suffering. He knew that Kira was going to win, and he didn't want to live to become him once again. So he asked time and time again if I would kill him. But I refused to do it. And… that's not the worst of it. Towards the end, I knew—or at least, I strongly suspected—that Kira was going to win. I was almost certain that Light wouldn't be with me much longer. But…but I still refused to kill him. I loved him so much…"

Soichiro's head was in his hands now, his expression unreadable. And when he spoke, his voice was clipped, aggravated. "You do not love my son."

"What?" L's breath whooshed from him without his permission in a shocked outburst. "I love him more than anything else! I would give anything for him; I would sacrifice my life!"

"But you wouldn't sacrifice his."

"That's foolish! If I'd killed Light, then where would that leave…" L trailed off. _Where would that leave me?_ His mind went blank for an instant as he realized just how self-centered his thoughts must seem. He wondered blankly when he had gone from wanting what was best for Light to only being concerned with how his lover's death would affect _him._ He was sure that at some point he had wanted what was best for Light, but now…

What happened?

"You don't love him," Soichiro snapped. "You're supposed to do what's best for the person you love. I would die for my wife if the situation called for it. But if my wife were subjected to horrible mental pain that I knew she would never be relived of, then I would allow her to die, because I love her! I would never keep her in constant pain, refusing to let her die just because I would miss her!" He moved towards L slowly, until he was glaring down at the detective from a mere foot away. "But that's what you did to Light, isn't it? You kept him alive because you wanted him, treating him like a _pet!_ And you, the master, thought only of yourself. What you feel for my son is not love, L. It is selfishness, and unwillingness to _let go_."

For the first time in years, L had no witty response. No logical comeback. It seemed as if all his intelligence had flown away, leaving him with a depressingly average mind. Or rather, his brain was kept locked away, and he couldn't find the key. All of his intelligence was still there, surely, he was just too shaken up to access it. L felt a sudden burst of horror as he realized there were tears brimming in his eyes. He blinked harshly, but was unable to will them away as he normally did. That horror built up as he realized tears were beginning to escape and roll down his face. Soichiro's expression twisted into shock as he realized that he had just made the greatest detective in the world _cry._

L inched for the door. "I was weak!" he snapped through the tears. He should run, like he normally did when he was in an unfamiliar situation. He couldn't show weakness in front of the task force. But something made him hold his ground. "I'm sorry, Mr. Yagami, that I couldn't kill your son! I'm sorry that I succumbed to weakness! If I could go back, if I could do this whole mess over again, I wouldn't hesitate to shoot him before he had the chance to be tortured, or go through the agony of having Kira slamming into his mind for weeks on end! But the fact is, I can't do it all over, and me being sorry doesn't change the fact that my Light is _gone._ " His tears had turned furious now. And what was worse, even as the words left his mouth, he wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. If he had the chance to go back…could he do it? Could he kill Light? Before he had the chance to continue thinking, his mouth had already spat out the remainder of his apology. "And so no matter what it takes, I am going to find Kira and bring him to justice, so that somehow I can get Light back!"

If the team had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to how they felt now. Not even the successors had ever seen L lose control like this.

L bit his tongue painfully as he immediately began to regret speaking. "Excuse me," he said shortly, tears still running down his face. "I think I will be returning to work in my room for the remainder of today. I will send a message if I uncover anything crucial."

And with that, he turned and left the room in haste.

†††

Near stood immediately after L left, drawing all attention to him rather than the crying genius. "We should focus." _We didn't get to tell him about destroying the notebook. This could wind up being problematic later._

The task force members stared at him as if he were a heartless monster. "Shouldn't we do something?" Matsuda asked softly. "Shouldn't you guys go after him? You know him best, after all."

Near shook his head. "I have already spoken with him about this. He will be better off alone anyways, and we need to focus on formulating a plan."

Mogi looked troubled, but didn't speak, as usual. Matsuda stepped back in surprise, and Soichiro sighed, his expression troubled. "This has all gotten out of hand," he murmured.

Near couldn't help but agree with him.

"We can still pull a win out of this if we do it right," Mello snapped. "While you were all out of the building, we came up with an idea as to how we can get Light back and still get rid of Kira and Beyond."

Soichiro's eyes snapped up to the second ranked successor. "You think we can save my son?" he gasped out. "How? What is your plan?"

This was where the lie began. Near paused, collecting his thoughts. He knew that this had to be perfect if it was going to work. The fact that L had stormed out was a bit of a problem, but it could be worked around with a little effort. "I have been thinking about this case, and all the rules of the Death Note," he began carefully, sticking to the script he'd written in his head. "Light regained his memories when he touched the notebook. And as we know, those memories created the Kira personality. Therefore, if Light relinquishes possession of the notebook and loses those memories, Kira will be killed, leaving Light unharmed. But as we all know, Light won't be able to relinquish possession so long as Kira is controlling him."

"Oh, I get it!" Matsuda exclaimed, a goofy smile on his face. "We're going to talk Light out of it long enough for him to relinquish possession, right? It'll be just like the movies!"

" _No,_ Matsuda," Near responded coldly. "That is not what we will do. The successors and I believe that if we can manage to destroy the notebook, it will be the same as relinquishing possession. Kira will die, and Light will be saved. _That_ will be our plan—we will track them down, and then we will destroy both notebooks. We will have Light back, and Beyond will be transported to maximum security prison. And once that happens, there will be no way the power of the notebook can be transferred, for there will be no one else to take ownership. All Death Notes in the human world will be destroyed once and for all. The Kira case will be closed."

Matsuda's eyes were as wide as saucers as he gasped, "Wow, that's so smart! Are you sure it'll work?"

Near was not at all sure that it would work. But still, he didn't need to be sure—after all, a fake plan had no need for absolute certainty. "I am certain, as are the other successors."

"Yeah," Mello threw in. "There's no doubt that it'll work. We just need to locate Kira and Beyond, and then we can take action. Think you can help us with that?"

"Of course!" Matsuda began, before halting as he received a sharp look from Soichiro.

"Wait just a minute," Soichiro said gruffly. "Isn't that a little too good to be true? We just destroy Kira's…" he paused, still feeling disbelief that a _notebook_ had been the cause of all this. "…His Death Note? We destroy it and then we get Light back? There's no way it's going to be that simple."

"It is not at all simple," Near agreed. "We will need to not only locate Kira and Beyond, but to get in close enough to get our hands on their Death Notes. It will certainly be nowhere near simple. But I am certain that it will work, so please…trust me."

Soichiro swallowed hard, fists clenched at his sides. "I just…I just can't accept the fact that this is real. I can't accept the fact that my son is Kira. And I can't accept that destroying a notebook is the solution to all our problems."

Near kept his expression carefully neutral, but on the inside he was seething. Why couldn't Soichiro just mindlessly follow orders like the other members of the task force? Oh well, if all it took was a few sweet, petty lies to gain his support, then Near was more than happy to speak them. "Chief Yagami, make no mistake—Light used to be Kira, but that is no longer the case. Now they are two different people. So do not make the mistake of saying that Light is the same as Kira."

"My son created Kira. You can phrase it any way you want, but I know the truth—whether he's Kira now or not, that _murderer_ was still spawned from my son's mind."

Near's eyes widened. He understood. He understood that burning, terrible question lingering in Soichiro's eyes.

 _Does my son deserve to be saved?_

Was it possible…that Soichiro wasn't entirely certain that saving Light was the right thing to do? Was it possible that the man's strong sense of justice was demanding that his son be punished for creating the being known as Kira? It was an interesting thought…perhaps Near could use him. But not now, and not while the other task force members were near. "Chief Yagami," Near insisted. "You must—"

"How would your family feel?" Mello snapped, cutting him off.

Soichiro blinked, surprised. "What?"

"How would your family feel if they learned that Light was forever lost due to your reluctance to attempt to save him by destroying the Death Note? How would they feel if they knew that you were resistant to something that could very well save his life?"

"They…they would be—"

"They'd be _devastated,"_ Mello spat. "And not just that, but think of all the people who _your son_ has killed! And think of all the people that he _will_ kill, even if he carries out his murders through Kira! How can you call yourself a seeker of justice if you let him continue on his rampage without so much as _attempting_ to stop him? You said it yourself, Light _created_ Kira—Kira is a being that came from the darkest corners of your son's mind. Doesn't that make it your responsibility to hunt him down and get rid of him? Destroying the notebook will do that, Chief Yagami. Destroying the notebook will help Light atone for all the lives he has taken. Destroying the notebook will help _you_ atone for the fact that you raised a son that became the most notorious mass murderer this world has ever seen. Destroying the notebook will put everything right. So why don't you help us? Why don't you help us get rid of the notebook that caused this disaster?"

"I—well—!" Soichiro spluttered.

"Please, Chief Yagami," Mello insisted, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "If you do this, then the Kira case will be closed, and everything will return to normal. I recognize that you want your son to pay for what he's done, but you shouldn't make him pay with his life, not he isn't fully at fault for our current situation."

Soichiro glared at the ground, fists clenching at his sides. "You really think this will work?"

"We know it will," Mello reiterated.

"Well, if you're sure…then I guess we have no choice." Soichiro turned to the other two members of the task force, asking, "Are both of you on board with this? Will you help to track down Kira and Beyond and put an end to them through the destruction of their notebooks?"

Matsuda didn't hesitate. "You got it, chief!" he exclaimed eagerly. "There's no way I could just sit back and let Light get hurt!"

Mogi gave a short nod, though he seemed a bit more hesitant. "If you believe it will work, then I have no choice but to aid you."

Soichiro gave a gruff sound of approval. "Good, then. I suggest we get started. If you find any clues as to Kira and Beyond's current location, inform the rest of the task force immediately. If you notice _anything—_ patterns in time of death, location, age—then speak up without hesitation. We are going to find Kira and Beyond, and we are going to destroy those notebooks once and for all. We'll burn them and put an end to this!"

"Burn?" Near echoed thoughtfully.

"Of course," Soichiro responded shortly. "How else would we destroy two notebooks completely, without allowing even a scrap to remain intact?"

"Hmm…you're right, of course…" Near trailed off, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers. "Very well then—we will burn the notebooks."

Soichiro nodded, turning his chair around and returning to his computer. He seemed determined to say nothing more, and when a few moments passed in silence, the other two members of the task force turned around as well, leaving Near, Mello, and Matt to stare at each other wordlessly.

Matt, who had spoken not even a word throughout the duration of the conversation, turned away first. He locked his gaze on his Gameboy, ignoring his computer in favor of playing whatever game he had selected for that day. Mello, on the other hand, continued watching Near intently.

The first ranked successor shot Mello a short nod. _It went exactly as planned,_ he communicated silently. _The only thing left in our way is L. If we can convince him, then we will easily be able to claim Kira's life, and Beyond's as well._

Mello's lips quirked upwards in a bitter smirk. "Let us pray that L is as easily convinced as the task force," he murmured in a nearly inaudible tone. "Let us hope that he does not see through our little plan."

Near turned away immediately. "Indeed," he agreed without laying eyes on the blonde successor. He saw Mello watching, eyes narrowed, for several more seconds. But then he seemed to decide that the conversation was over, and a moment later he returned to his research.

 _L is the only one left,_ Near thought again. _Once I convince L, once I make him believe without doubt that we want to help Light…then, and only then, will we be able to put an end to this year-long war between murderer and detective._

 **Once again, the next update will be next Tuesday.** _ **Next Tuesday.**_ **I'm actually a bit upset that this chapter didn't have some dramatic, unexpected ending just so I could torture you all with the wait…oh well, I suppose there'll be time for all sorts of drama later.**

 **I hope you enjoyed, and be sure to drop me a review if you did!**


	17. Starlight

**I'm back! My little vacation was heavenly, but it's nice to have an internet connection again, and I felt a little bad about not being able to post anything. Thanks if you left me a review while I was on vacation; they seriously brighten my day! And before you go on to read this chapter, I should warn you that this one has a few very specific references to the LABB Murder Case, and so if you haven't read it, it might not make a whole lot of sense—but it shouldn't affect the story too much, so don't worry.**

 **Also, you may rejoice, for this is the last chapter in which the characters do _nothing_ but sit around and mope! **

**Chapter 17: Starlight**

Kira glared at the wall, lost in thought. His red eyes pretended to study the flaking brown paint and chipping plaster of the bedroom walls as he delved deep into his own thoughts, puzzling over the specifics of what he would soon attempt to do. He leaned further back into the computer chair he was lounging in. He was slouched in the chair so he was dangerously close to slipping off. One leg was thrown over the armrest, the other planted firmly on the ground. His head rested on one fist, the other hanging limply over the armrest. He looked listless. He _was_ listless. He tilted his head with a sigh, and a curtain of hair fell in front of his eyes. He raised a hand to the amber strands and pinched a few hairs between his fingers, tugging irritably as he remembered a conversation he'd had with Beyond a few nights prior.

It had started when the dark-haired murderer waltzed out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, where Kira had been busy killing criminals for what could quite possibly have been days. He'd fallen into a trance of sorts, his furious scribbling cut off only by the long periods of thought he would fall into as he puzzled out the details of his latest plan. Over the past several days he'd designed a variation of plans with over a ninety percent chance of working, all of them ending the same way—with L dead at his feet. He had yet to decide which one he would attempt to follow, and he was engaged in one of his thought sessions when Beyond walked in—and so when the murderer had laid a hand on his shoulder, whirling his chair around, he'd very nearly punched the older man in the face in a fit of surprise.

"Beyond!" Kira had snapped, jerking away from his partner and pressing both hands over his face, attempting to hide how badly he'd startled him. "Make some noise when you come in here, I nearly turned around and started swinging!"

The murderer grinned toothily. "Aww," he purred, "Worried that you'll hurt me, little god? "I wouldn't be concerned about such things; we both know that you couldn't even come _close_ to harming me."

Momentarily blinded by anger, Kira's fist shot forward with the intent of slamming into Beyond's jaw and proving just now dangerous he could be—but much to his irritation, the murderer caught Kira's fist with his palm, squeezing harshly. A grin spread Beyond's his face when he heard his lover's soft cry of pain, and he hissed out, "Oh no, Kira…did you really try to hit me with your right hand? The one with the broken fingers? And you didn't even consider the possibility that I might take advantage of that little fact?" He threw his head back, laughing heartily.

"Let me go," Kira spat, attempting to wrench his hand away, ignoring the sharp pain lacing up his am. "Or do you want my damn fingers to stay broken forever?"

"Let you go? No, no, I can't do that!" He leaned in, teeth bared, lips dangerously close to Kira's.

"Get _off,_ Beyond! This isn't the time for your little games; I'm trying to decide how we should kill L!"

"…Not a good enough reason. Now, what do you say to—hey, stop struggling! Kira!"

And that was when Kira had made his big mistake. He hadn't meant much by it; he'd only needed an excuse that would get Beyond out of his way while he worked. And so, without thinking about the possible repercussions, Kira opened his mouth and snapped, "I don't want to sleep with you until you don't look like L!"

After that, a heavy silence had fallen over the room. But Beyond didn't look offended like Kira had hoped—rather, he looked _confused,_ and perhaps a bit entertained. "You don't want to have sex with me because…I look like L."

"Y-yes, that's exactly what I mean." Actually, that was _not_ what he'd meant; he'd just wanted an excuse to get his lover off his back. But now that he'd said it, he couldn't back down, and so he went on, "Other than the eyes, you look exactly like him—I don't want o be reminded of that little freak every time I look at you!"

Beyond stared for a moment, clearly trying to puzzle out the logic behind his lover's words. "But Kira, I've slept with you plenty of times now, and you've never had a problem with it before. You're behaving absurdly."

"It doesn't matter how I'm behaving! Just get out and leave me alone!"

Understanding flashed through his eyes. "Ah, I understand. You are refusing me because you want to turn your full attention to our plan, and you think that if you offend me, I'll leave you alone. That is why you are acting so strangely."

"Well, I wouldn't say—"

"Give it up, little god. Your idea wasn't a very good one in the first place. I thought you'd know by now that offending me makes me _angry,_ and making me angry leads to—"

"All right, all right!" Kira hissed. "I _know_ what it leads to."

"And besides," Beyond chuckled, "Your logic is flawed."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well…" The murderer's face was suddenly inches from Kira's, hot breath puffing across flushed skin. "I may look like L, but you look like exactly Light."

"That's different! We share a body, you moron!"

Beyond shrugged, though the gesture was calculated. "Then do something to make it _your_ body."

"Just what are you entailing?" Kira spluttered furiously.

Waving a hand, Beyond responded, "Relax! It's not whatever you're thinking."

"Then what exactly is it?" Kira demanded.

Beyond paused thoughtfully, gazing into red eyes. His teeth gnawed at his bottom lip cutely as he took a lock of Kira's amber hair between his fingers, eyes raking over the silk-like strands. "Your hair. You should dye it."

Kira choked on laughter, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. "Dye it? And just what color do you propose? Black, like a commoner?"

He ignored the obvious jab at his own hair color. "Hmm, I was thinking more along the lines of scarlet, like your beautiful eyes." Beyond fluttered his lashes like a teenage girl, drawing another barking laugh from the supposed god.

"And what about you?" Kira shot back. "Would _you_ dye _your_ hair? Would you join me in differentiating ourselves from our twins?"

"I am incapable of doing such a thing, seeing as my hair has been too modified to dye."

Ah, of course…Kira remembered then, that long, long ago, Beyond's hair had been bright blonde, and had been greatly modified so that it would stay black. He wasn't sure how the murderer managed to permanently change his hair color, but he had his suspicions. "Then it's hardly fair for me to dye _my_ hair, don't you think?"

Beyond huffed, though he was clearly less annoyed than he looked. "Just consider it. You'd look… _godly_."

The choice of words had made Kira shudder harshly—Beyond knew just how to manipulate him.

Mind snapping back to current time, Kira huffed, amused at the memory. He ran his fingers through his amber hair slowly, letting each strand fall back into place with practiced ease. He hadn't taken Beyond's advice, so his hair remained stubbornly brown. _Maybe,_ he thought, _I should consider it. This body is rather boring, after all. It might be entertaining to see L's reaction, at the very least._

"Kira?"

Kira hissed in a low tone as the door to the room creaked open, flooding the nearly pitch-black room with light. He'd spent many, many hours in this darkened room, the Death Note open before him, pen in his hand, and his computer open to social media sites and news reports. It felt liberating, in a way, to have been separated from Light. To be his own person. It made him feel…free.

Kira felt something akin to drunk on that freedom. That was one of the reasons he'd spent the past several days locked up in this darkened room, writing almost constantly, killing everyone who had committed even the most minor of crimes. Beyond, the monster, had been trying to convince him to start offing innocents—but he wasn't quite up to that, and so long as he had Beyond to carry out such murders for him, he didn't see why he should dirty his hands with the blood of innocents.

"Hey, Kira, can you hear me?"

Oh, right… Kira looked up at the man standing in the doorway. "Beyond…I apologize." His eyes raked over the murderer. He was slightly hunched, black hair completely shambolic, reddish orange eyes gleaming. He was clothed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved V-neck shirt that matched his hair exactly, displaying the faint outlines of countless scars. Kira's eyes swept down to Beyond's ankle, where he knew a dagger was strapped beneath the pant leg. He located the slight bump in the pocket just over Beyond's heart where he was certain his favorite scalpel was hiding.

Beyond walked further into the room, frowning as he reached for the blinds and yanked them open. It was almost cute—Beyond seemed to lapse into these small moments of affection at random times, going from slashing brutally into Kira's flesh to bringing him a cup of coffee in the morning and making sure he didn't blind himself due to the endless hours of staring blankly at the Death Note. "It's nearly been three days. And while you've been offing criminals like the good little boy you are, _I've_ been doing nothing but murdering innocents." He grinned toothily. "I think we've done enough _distracting,_ don't you? So what's our next move? Do we pick off the members of the task force? Swoop in and take the successors?"

Kira brushed a hand through his hair. "Hmm… that's a good question." He slipped into thought for a moment. "I think… I need to figure out what my goal is."

"Has it changed?" Beyond questioned curiously. "You want to destroy L and create your perfect world, right? You've always wanted that, even when you were joined with the Yagami boy."

"Everyone's goals change," Kira murmured thoughtfully. "Take you, for example. In the beginning, when you lived at Wammy's House, you were infatuated with L. That's why you killed A, and why you went on that killing spree in Los Angeles. But when you figured out that L would never accept you, you became enraged, and wanted nothing more than to hurt him. At the same time, you learned of Kira—and when you realized that the one you so admired was at L's right hand, you decided to capture him. Although, you didn't know that you were really capturing _Light_ instead of _me_. Once you figured out that Light wasn't the same as me, you attempted to kill him, and decided that you would do anything to bring about his end. And now, now that I have overpowered Light, stolen the Death Note, and returned to you, you just want to work with me and be by my side."

Frowning, Beyond insisted, "And _your_ initial goal hasn't changed, correct? You still want to kill L. He has to be killed; he's the only thing that Light's fighting for, correct?"

"Ah, yes…" Kira ran two fingers down his cheek. He could still feel Light battling, ever so faintly. In the beginning, in those first few hours after the vanquishing of the rest of that damn silver, Light's resistance had been startlingly strong, especially for someone who had just been completely overwhelmed and _drowned_. But one swift blow had been all it took to slam the teen to the back of his own mind and keep him there. Kira smiled, remembering how lovely Light's mind had felt as he convulsed in the back of his consciousness. After that incident Light had calmed down significantly, only occasionally gathering enough strength to thrash for a moment. At the beginning of Kira's killing spree, Light had been especially insistent in his struggling. But as he realized he didn't have a chance of winning, the teen had eventually lost the strength to fight. It was a beautiful thing, seeing such a pure creature succumb to the darkness. And throughout every flutter of strength, every weak punch, Kira could sense Light feebly clinging to L. He clung to his voice, the memory of his touch, his appearance. He missed the detective, loved him dearly enough to throw himself at Kira again and again despite the fact that his battle was completely and utterly futile. So it was definitely true that L was Light's motivation for fighting. And if he were to remove that motivation…

But there was something else. An idea, a plan, a thought…slowly forming, twisting and turning in the back of his mind. But until he had more information, until he was sure…

"Forget I said anything," Kira instructed softly. "My intentions remain unchanged."

Beyond dared to lean into his god's chest, arms wrapping around his waist. "We kill L, then?"

"We kill him." And now, after this little chat, Kira knew exactly how he was going to do it. "Listen, Beyond—I know what we're going to do."

He raised a brow, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. "Oh really? It took you long enough."

Kira growled, the noise rumbling low in his throat as he spat, "Be quiet, Beyond, and let me explain!"

The murderer leaned back with a shrug.

Kira pushed himself to his feet in a sharp, sudden movement, slamming his Death Note closed and heading over to the wardrobe, beginning to yank clothing from within and scattering it out over the bed.

"What are you doing?" Beyond yelped, surprised.

"Pack your things, Beyond. We're not staying here any longer."

"But I like it here!" the murderer whined. "I chose it especially for me, and it's perfect for hiding us from L!"

"Tough shit," Kira spat. "This place is dingy and dirty, and I'm not staying here a moment longer. Besides that, there are strategic reasons for the move."

"No strategy is worth moving," Beyond muttered irritably. "Just what are you planning?"

"Well, that's simple—I've already picked out a hotel to stay in for a few weeks. Once you're all packed up, you're going to go there with me and help me check for wires and security cameras. If I'm going to stay there, I don't want L to find out."

Beyond frowned deeply. "You're saying _I_ an awful lot—as if you're going to be the only one staying there. Tell me, Kira, am I not included in this little plan of yours?"

"Of course you're included," Kira chastised. "But you're not going to be staying with me. I'm sorry, Beyond, but we'll need to part ways for a couple of weeks."

"We're splitting up?" Beyond asked, alarmed. "No. Not a chance in hell, Kira. What if Lawli gets to you while I'm gone? Or worse—the successors. They'll _kill_ you."

"Don't treat me like a child; I know what I'm getting myself into."

Beyond's eyes narrowed dangerously. He darted forward, curling his fingers around Kira's collar and stopping him from dragging more clothing from the wardrobe. He yanked the teen so close that it was no longer possible to focus on him without straining his eyes, his lips brushing those of his partner with every word. "And tell me, Kira…just what is so important that you'd send me away? We're stronger together, and I didn't go through all this trouble to just let you go so easily. If we go somewhere, we go together, got that?"

"Oh, I think you'll change your mind…after I tell you where you're going and what you're doing."

Beyond raised a brow curiously. "And…just what will I be doing? Where will I be going? Do tell, Kira."

"Isn't it obvious?" Kira purred in response, smirking broadly.

"If it was obvious, then I wouldn't have—"

Kira cut him off with ease, raising a hand and brushing it through obsidian locks. "Beyond, my dear…you're going to England."

"England?" he echoed.

"Yes, Beyond—England. I've heard tell of a _special school_ there, you see, and I'm a bit concerned that some of the students will be getting in my way later on. It's better if they're all eliminated, don't you think?"

Beyond's eyes glinted with anticipation as he whispered, "And this school…it wouldn't happen to be an orphanage, would it?"

"Hmm, perhaps." He leaned even closer, and Beyond felt those full lips curve into a sinister smile against his flesh. "Beyond Birthday…you're going to get on the 8:30 flight to England tomorrow morning, and you're going to go back to that orphanage. And once you're there, you're going to sneak in and use those beautiful eyes of yours to take the lives of everyone in that special school."

"What will that do?" Beyond asked, looking all-too-eager to murder the orphans he so despised.

"It will throw L and the successors off their game. They'll be so shaken by the deaths of the other orphans that they won't even realize what's happening, or what my _real_ plan is."

"And what is that plan?"

"Oh, I can't tell you until I'm sure it will work."

Beyond's eyes narrowed. "You're evil."

"Am I?" he asked innocently. "That's too bad, I thought I was _justice_." Beyond shuddered, and Kira grinned. For as well as Beyond could manipulate him, _he_ wasn't half bad at pulling off the same sort of manipulation—and he knew that any mention of Kira's so-called justice made Beyond shiver with delight. "I thought I was the _god_ of the new world."

A heartbeat later Kira felt Beyond's lips crash onto his, tongue parting his lips without so much as a struggle. "God…" he whispered, barely drawing away. "You're so cruel…"

"Yes," Kira purred, dragging one hand up his lover's back. "I'm a cruel bastard, and you love it."

Beyond's eyes gleamed passionately. "I love _you_ ," he growled, latching his teeth onto Kira's neck.

The god chuckled, "You _lust_ after me."

"It's the same thing, in the end," Beyond murmured through a sloppy, vulgar kiss to his lover's collarbone.

Kira pushed him away with a hand, sealing a palm to his partner's chest. "Now, now, Beyond—now isn't the time for such things. You've got a flight to catch in less than twenty-four hours, and in that time we need to get checked in to the hotel I've picked out, get you ready to leave, and make sure the place is secure."

"And…and if we finish all of those things ahead of schedule?"

Kira smirked. "Well then…we'll have some time to play, won't we?"

For a moment, Beyond stared slack-jawed at his lover. But a heartbeat later the words registered in his mind, and he was suddenly darting over to the bed and yanking a suitcase from beneath it, beginning to shove his things into it wildly.

Kira looked away with a dark grin. His eyes darted to his computer monitor, which was still open and at full brightness. On it, a website spewed advertisements happily, attempting to draw in customers to stay at the hotel it advertised—the hotel, as fate would have it, in which Kira would begin to orchestrate his plan.

The Teito Hotel.

†††

 _Just like every time before, L was staring up at the sky, head tilted back painfully far, fists shoved into his pockets. Just like every time before, L felt terribly, horribly depressed. But_ un _like every time before, it was not raining. That terrible rain was absent from the sky, the sheets of water completely gone from the ground. Instead, it was terribly sunny. The sun was high and bright in the sky, pounding down relentlessly. And this time, instead of being damp from the downpour of rain, L was damp due to the trickle of sweat making its way down his spine. It was unbearably hot._

 _Looking around, L was immediately confused. He'd expected to lower his head to find himself standing up on the rooftop once again, with some twisted, evil version of his lover staring back at him through scarlet eyes. But…he wasn't on the roof. In fact, he didn't think he was even in_ Japan. _The landscape around him was vaguely familiar, he realized. He was in the middle of a small clearing surrounded entirely by young, delicate trees, their trunks swaying in the gentle breeze—a breeze that did nothing to dispel the unbearable heat. The ground, perfectly even, was covered in a thick layer of manicured grass, dotted with tiny flecks of color every couple of feet—a sure sign that minuscule flowers were sprouting upwards. The little clearing was clearly taken good care of—and the moment L turned around, he knew why._

 _Through that little clearing and across a large, open area, there resided a rather large building made entirely of red brick and crisp white trimming around the doors and windows. Even from such a distance, it was impossible for L_ not _to recognize the building, or the grassy fields surrounding it. This place was where L had grown up—at least, for a little over five years. It was the place where he'd received his training. It was the place where he'd became such good friends with A (had they really been friends? L had never had time to figure that little detail out for himself). And…and it was where he'd met Beyond, and where all those terrible, terrible things had taken place._

 _To put it frankly—it was Wammy's House._

 _L frowned, taking a few steps towards the seemingly abandoned establishment. It was in pristine condition and obviously still functioning, so he knew that students must still reside there—but he couldn't seem to see any of them. It was rather unusual; normally the fields around the orphanage were teeming with children, some playing, some studying, some curled up beneath an overhang, lost in thought. But now it seemed desolate, and the only sound came from the bending of grass and leaves beneath the wind's influence. L slowly moved closer to the orphanage. He'd barely reached the edge of the clearing when he spotted something odd. There, sitting beneath an open window, was a hauntingly familiar child. And standing just in front of him stood someone that was arguably even more familiar to the great detective._

 _It…it was A. And there, in front of him, stood a much, much younger version of L himself._

 _"A?" L called out, though he knew that he was much to far away to hear what the two children were saying. He began to run without realizing what he was doing, darting across the open field with astonishing speed. It wasn't more than a few moments before he was standing directly in front of the two children. "A!" he called again, drawing to a halt a few feet away from the two._

 _A did not respond. His head was lowered, voice muted. He appeared not to have noticed L—that is to say, the_ older _L's arrival. And likewise, L's younger self seemed to pay no mind to the mysterious man who had just appeared at his right shoulder._

 _"…got to listen to me!" A was hissing, his head still dipped towards the ground. "L, I know that you don't want to believe me, but Beyond is dangerous—I mean,_ B _is dangerous!"_

 _Ah, that's right…L had nearly forgotten that back in his early days at Wammy's house, before Beyond had defected and gone on his little killing spree in LA, he'd been one of the letters. He'd been B._

 _L's younger self shook his head. Even in youth, the shadows under his eyes were thick and dark, appearing paint-like in nature. "There is no proof," he was saying. "B is a good person—if he wasn't, then he wouldn't have saved me from that awful man. I can't believe that he's attempting to hurt you."_

 _"He isn't just attempting, he's succeeding!" A's eyes darted from side to side nervously, as if he was afraid of Beyond popping up and attacking him. "L, there's something you don't know—whenever you're not around, whenever the two of us are alone and he knows he won't get caught…he does things to me, L. Horrible things…"_

 _L's eyes widened, understanding striking him heavily even as his younger self sighed, "Even if B is hurting you, what can we do about it? Tell Watari? Get him thrown back onto the streets? No, A…there has to be another way."_

 _L didn't catch A's response. He was too busy staring into the child's eyes, taking in his expression—and he realized, with a horrible, horrible knot growing in his stomach, what he hadn't realized all those years ago. He'd seen that look A was giving him before. He'd seen it on someone very dear to him, on someone he loved dearly—on Light. And he knew then that A hadn't told him everything. B had abused him in far worse ways than he'd let on, and A had tried to tell him. But L hadn't listened. He hadn't had enough experience to recognize what those marks meant, what those bruises entailed. But it shouldn't have come as such a surprise—after all, it wasn't as if there hadn't been warning signs; L had just been blind to them. He'd been so convinced that Beyond was a good person that he hadn't seen the obvious signs of A's abuse—and it had resulted in his death._

 _"Just listen to me!" A burst out, drawing L's attention back to the scene—no, scene wasn't the right word. This was a memory. "L, please! I…I'm scared, L. I think…I think he's going to_ kill _me!"_

 _"That's absurd."_

No! _L wanted to scream._ No, please, listen to him! He's telling the truth; Beyond will kill him if you don't intervene! _But he said nothing, and even if he had, he knew that neither genius would have been able to hear him. He was but a guest in his own mind, a spectator without a voice. He was so caught up in his frustration that he missed the next couple of words._

 _When he turned his attention back to the conversation, his younger self was saying, "Look, I understand that you're concerned, but B won't kill you. And even if he does happen to try, I won't let him."_

 _A's eyes widened. "You…you really mean that? You'll protect me?"_

 _"Yes, of course I will. I have no doubt that B will not attempt to harm you. But should he attempt such a thing, then I swear to you that I will protect you. No matter what."_

 _The look of relief that crossed A's face was immediate, and it broke L's heart because he knew that his younger self would not keep his promise. "L!" A whined, tears brimming in his eyes. He lurched forward, and L's younger self nearly fell over as A—larger than him on quite a large scale—engulfed him in a fierce hug. "Thank you," he rasped. "Thank you…"_

 _L didn't hear his younger self's response. The world was blurring around him, and for a moment L thought that he might be waking up—for of course, this had to be a dream. But a heartbeat later everything was thrown back into startling clarity, and L found himself standing back in that clearing he'd started in. For a single instant his mind displayed an image of the room where A had…"_ committed suicide," _but he had but a brief moment to take in the splatters of blood, the message written on the walls, and A's lifeless body before his attention was drawn to the scene before him._

 _Beyond was leaned against one of the trees across the small clearing, his gaze fixed on L's younger self, who was standing a few feet away awkwardly. There was a heavy, unspoken weight between the two of them, and L knew exactly what it was. He remembered this day, this conversation. It had been nearly a week after A's death, and nearly a week after L had promised to protect Beyond from being caught. This was_ the _day. The day that Beyond was going to run away. The day that he would turn around and walk away, never returning to Wammy's House. After this day, L wouldn't see him for almost ten years. And when he did finally see him, the murderer would be lying on a hospital bed, badly burned, barley breathing, and a few days away from being given a life sentence to a California prison. A life sentence, L knew, that he would one day escape, only to flee to Japan and destroy everything L had worked for._

 _"Why won't you let me be close to you?" Beyond snarled, and L realized with a start that he'd stepped into the mid-point of the conversation. "I've tried_ everything, done _everything for you! And you push me away, no matter what I attempt!" The murderer stormed forward, fingers curling in the other's collar, shaking him roughly. "What do I have to do to make you trust me?"_

 _L's younger self looked frightened. And of course he would—this was well before Watari had begun teaching the students of Wammy's House to hide their emotions. He saw no danger in allowing Beyond to know just how afraid he was. "You know why I can't trust you, B." His voice was shaking. "I'll protect you from judgment, but I can't be close to you like you want."_

 _"Don't say that!" Beyond spat furiously. "Stop saying that right now! If you don't stop that and let me be what A was to you, then I'll—!"_

 _"You'll what?" L whispered in response. "You'll make me commit_ suicide, _like A? Will I be next, B? Will I be the one sprawled out over the desk, a message painted on the wall in my own blood? What will you do then, when you can't blame my supposed suicide on my stress levels? I'm ranked above you; I'm more intelligent. There is no reason for me to commit suicide and you know it. So if you act, Watari will figure out that my death wasn't my own doing, and you'll be caught. I have nothing to fear from you."_

 _Such confident words. Such arrogance. Beyond's eyes narrowed. "You have nothing to fear? You think that I can't hurt you, Lawliet?"_

 _"Stop calling me that!" the other child practically screamed. "You're not supposed to know my name! You're not supposed to know anything about me! Why can't you just stay away and let me forget about this disaster? A is_ dead _because of you, B! You can deny it all you want, you can play it off as a suicide, but we know the truth. We know that you killed him!"_

 _Beyond didn't seem to be listening. His brow furrowed, and he said slowly, "You…you think you don't have to be scared of me? Do you think that just because I want to be close to you…I'll treat you like anything more than the scum you are?"_

 _L winced as his younger self's eyes widened comically. He…he knew what was coming next. "Scum?" he echoed. "You…you think I'm scum?"_

 _"You're the worst kind of scum," Beyond snarled. "The kind that pretends to be your friend, then turns around and stabs you in the back!"_

 _"I saved you!" L protested. "I saved you from being locked away! If I told Watari what you did, then he'd cart you off somewhere I'd never see you again, or worse!_ I'm _the one protecting_ you _—so how the hell have I stabbed you in the back?"_

 _Beyond didn't seem to realize how flawed his logic was. His hands were suddenly at the other child's collar, wrenching his white shirt up over his head._

 _"B?" L's younger self croaked, stunned into submissiveness._

 _Beyond didn't respond. He threw L's shirt away, where it pooled on the grassy floor of the clearing. The next moment, B's foot hooked around L's ankles, and the dark-haired child was suddenly laid out flat on his back, the equally dark-haired murderer pinning him with ease. "You think you're safe from me?" Beyond snarled viciously. "You think that just because you didn't give me away to Watari, I'm indebted to you, and therefore unable to raise a hand against you?"_

 _"B, please!" L squeaked, his tone unusually high, even for a child. "What are you doing?"_

 _"Look around you, Lawliet. We're surrounded by trees and separated from the orphanage by a rather large field. As long as we're out here, no one can hear us, and no one will see what happens to you."_

 _"You—are you going to kill—?"_

 _"Kill you?" Beyond sneered. "Maybe. We'll see where this goes."_

 _It took but a moment for Beyond's hands to flip L onto his front. The child keened in distress, the sound soft and high. He was clearly terrified. L remembered the terror well—he hadn't felt such an emotion often in his twenty-four years of life, but he remembered each time horribly well. This had been his first experience with the sickening emotion called fear._

 _Beyond smirked at the sound emitting from his victim's throat, straddling L's body and pinning his arms to the ground with both knees. The younger male turned his head to one side, pressing his cheek into the grass. "Aww, what's wrong?" Beyond purred mockingly. "Having a hard time breathing, Lawliet? Are you uncomfortable?"_

 _"B!" L gasped out, shaking beneath the murderer's grasp. "Let me go!"_

 _"Hmm…no, I don't think so, Lawli." Beyond reached around to his belt, and a moment later there was a large kitchen knife clutched in one hand._

 _"W-where did you get that?" L stuttered._

 _"The kitchen, where else?" Beyond pressed the tip of the blade to the back of L's shoulder, pressing in just lightly enough to draw a drop of blood. "Now, hold still—I don't want to mess up."_

 _"Mess up?" L echoed fearfully. "What do you mean? B, stop this at once!"_

 _"No. You've angered me, dearest Lawliet. I've been so kind to you. I've given you every opportunity to come to your senses and let me be close to you. And yet you keep resisting me! You sit there, legs drawn up to your chest, and pretend that I don't exist, despite my kindness. You're just so intent upon denying me, so intent upon turning me away. And you've made me so very angry, I just_ have _to take it out on_ someone _—and here you are! Helpless, afraid…" he grinned toothily. "You're going to belong to me, Lawliet. Me and only me."_

 _"You're behaving erratically!" L spat out, masking his fear with anger. "Unhand me! I belong to no one!"_

 _"Not yet," Beyond agreed. "But if I put my name on you, I get to keep you, right? That's how it works in school."_

 _"No—B, what are you—?"_

 _L screamed. That knife had sliced straight through his flesh with ease, cutting deeply without a sign of relenting. Blood welled up thickly in the long, thin wound, splashing up over Beyond's hands. L—the real L—was unable to watch, his vision tearing away from his younger self the instant Beyond raised a blood-soaked hand to his lips. He closed his eyes, wincing as his younger self screamed again. Beyond had driven that knife back into his shoulder, and was dragging it down in what L knew would soon be two incredibly intricate initials—B.B._

 _"Feel it, Lawliet," Beyond snarled viciously, wrenching the knife down, forming a slightly curved line. "Feel your flesh splitting…" He gave a particularly harsh yank, and the victimized child whimpered._

 _L couldn't stomach the rest. Every time his younger self cried out, every time he let a pained noise escape that raw throat, he felt as if he were about to throw up. He'd forgotten this incident, had put it behind him—but now he was being forced to relive it. And, he realized, in a way, he was also being forced to watch what Beyond had done to Light. For, of course, L wasn't the only one who had to wear Beyond's initials around on his back. This same, twisted ritual had been carried out on his lover. Beyond had done this—he'd pinned Light down, stripped him of his shirt, sliced into his flesh with demented relish. And that, mixed with the disgust he felt at seeing his younger self pinned down and victimized, forced L to swallow repeatedly to hold back bile._

 _It went on for what felt like forever, lasting even longer than L remembered. And once it was finally over, Beyond drew that bloodstained kitchen knife from his victim's back, flicking droplets of scarlet from the steel, watching how they painted the grass red. L's younger self lay dormant beneath him, body already going into shock. He didn't' move, not even when his tormentor stabbed the blade into the blood-slickened grass inches from his face, getting to his feet with a savage grin. "You swore to protect me," Beyond reminded him with a sneer. "Will you keep your promise, I wonder? Will you still protect me after I've done such a_ terrible _thing?"_

 _L's younger self had no response. He stared blankly straight ahead, too shaken to speak._

 _Beyond snorted sadistically, amused. "As fun as this has been, I think I should be going now—Watari will be looking for the both of us, and I don't want to be here when he figures out what I've done to his precious prodigy." He shook his hands, flicking blood from his fingertips, and shoved them into his pockets carelessly. He took a few steps towards the edge of the clearing, then paused, throwing a glance at L over his shoulder. "Oh…and L?"_

 _The child didn't answer._

 _Beyond smirked darkly as he raised a hand to his eyes, covering them for a heartbeat. A heartbeat later, two contact lenses fell to the forest floor, and Beyond lowered his hand with a swish. He had worn blue contacts at first, and had switched to black after meeting L—but now L's younger self saw his tormentor's real eyes for the first time. They were a bloody, violent orange, rimmed with yellow and red. And as the sun began to set, casting thick, dark shadows around the clearing, Beyond's face became shrouded in the ink-like light, and his eyes appeared to glow in the darkness. He looked, L reflected, like the demon he was. Beyond's eyes glittered dangerously, the smirk never leaving his face. Oh and "L…" he purred, blinking hard, no doubt adjusting to the absence of his contact lenses. "…I renounce my title as B. From now on, I'm Beyond—and don't you forget it."_

 _Beyond turned, stalking out of the clearing, and the scene changed again. Now it was years later, and L saw himself standing in the main hall of the orphanage, staring at a younger version of Near. The white-haired child was covered in mud, his normally pristine clothing spattered with the stuff. He was shaking, eyes wide, tears streaming down his cheeks. L remembered this moment with horrifying clarity. Near hadn't been more than six at the time, and wasn't yet fully in control of his emotions. After a twenty-four hour period of remaining mysteriously gone from the orphanage, he'd come bursting back into the main hall shrieking for L. When he'd came down to the main hall, he'd found Near like this—a complete mess._

 _"Mello is gone!" the child was wailing. "There was a strange man with dark hair, and I tried to fight him, but he threw me off, and I got knocked out! When I woke up, Mello was gone, and Matt—Matt was—!"_

 _"Where was Matt?" L's younger shadow requested calmly. "Near, what has happened?"_

 _"Matt's still unconscious," Near blubbered. "I couldn't carry him, so I came back here as fast as I could!"_

 _L knelt in front of his future successor, arms rising to clasp his shoulders comfortingly. "You said that Mello was taken away by a strange man. Describe him, please."_

 _L—the real L—knew what Near would say before he even opened his mouth. "He…he was tall. He had dark hair and orange eyes, and he was slouching. He looked like you, L!"_

 _L didn't have a chance to hear his younger self's reaction, but he knew exactly what it would have been. He remembered all too well the flash of horror that had torn through him at the realization that Beyond had taken one of his successors away. And a boy no older than six, at that._

 _There was another scene change. This time L had only a brief moment to take in the space before him, but he knew immediately what he was seeing. He recognized the bloody room, the splattered walls and floor, the rusted chains hanging from the ceiling. And he recognized the crumpled form of Mello, thrown messily against a wall and left unconscious while Beyond escaped. He knew that if he'd been forced to watch the scene further, Matt and Near would come rushing forward, rolling their fallen comrade over and trying to stem the flow of blood that gushed from the young child's various wounds. He would have seen them staggering under his weight as they carried him to the waiting car._

 _Another scene change. L saw Beyond's first murder in Los Angeles. He saw the victims' marked chest, the thin line across his throat. Then he saw the second murder, then the third. He saw Beyond locking himself inside a room and drenching himself in gasoline before setting himself on fire in an effort to create the perfect case, one unsolvable for L himself. He saw the flames fail, saw Beyond's badly burned body fall to the ground. He saw the paramedics rushing him to the hospital, desperately trying to stabilize his failing heart. He saw himself standing before Beyond in the hospital, telling him once and for all that he had won. He saw Beyond disappearing into that California prison, presumably never to return. And then he_ did _return, and L saw the murderer's, grizzly murder scene in Light's hospital room. He saw Beyond snatching Light away, saw him holding a knife to the teen's throat and threatening death. He saw him falling back, blood spewing from his ruined hand, howling in pain. He saw him running away, escaping, fleeing to regain his strength and set yet another one of his plots into motion._

 _And then he saw new things. He saw Beyond standing before him, Kira at his side, the world falling apart beneath his feet. He saw flames racing across the globe, consuming,_ purifying _all in its path. He saw the murderer leaning over him, a knife clutched in his left hand as he screeched something about L's inevitable death. And then, finally, he saw the flash of a knife, and felt the bite of steel ripping through his throat. At some point he'd stopped seeing himself in third person and had transitioned to first—and so when he died, when he felt the last drops of blood drain from his body, it was_ him, _not some shadow or past self._

 _Now L wasn't sure where he was. The world had gone quiet around him, and he found himself drifting along in what appeared to be a sea of red water. It was very peaceful. It made him want to sleep, even though he knew that he was already sleeping. It made him want to rest. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he'd allow that water to carry him away. It sounded relaxing, to let that gentle current carry him along._

 _Perhaps that water wasn't so bad._

 _And then, just as L's eyes slipped closed, his whole body jolted, and—_

L opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back, staring blankly up the ceiling as his breathing slowly evened out. That nightmare…it wasn't the first he'd had of that nature. It wasn't the first nightmare he'd had that forced him to relive every single one of his encounters with Beyond. But still, it was rattling—he hadn't had such a dream in several years. And now, much to L's horror, he had many more encounters with Beyond of which to dream about. It made falling asleep that much more horrifying.

"L?" a cautious voice asked. "Are you awake?"

The detective slowly pushed himself up, leaning back against the headboard of the bed he was lying in. He wasn't sure what time of day it was, or when he'd fallen into such a deep slumber—but he did recognize that voice, and it took a mere moment for him to locate its source.

Near. He stood at the foot of L's bed, Matt and Mello not far away. He was completely smooth and unruffled, a far cry from the boy L had seen in his dream. But that wasn't a surprise—that particular event had taken place well over nine years ago, and Near had matured greatly since then. As had Mello, who still bore the scars from that horrific event—though he was quite skilled at hiding them. And Matt, of course, had matured as well. Though, L noted, he was the least changed of all the successors. He was still obsessed with video games, and still wearing those orange goggles—which had been a tenth birthday present from Mello. It had been a joke, really, but he hadn't taken them off for more than a few hours at a time since.

"L?" Near repeated.

"Oh, yes…" L murmured, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He was shaking slightly, to his irritation, no doubt from his dream. "I apologize, but I had a rather jarring dream. Forgive me if I do not seem at full capacity."

"You rushed out before we could tell you the plan," Near said carefully.

Ah, of course. L had already put his conversation with Soichiro out of his head—though now that Near reminded him of it, it was all that he could think about. Soichiro didn't approve of his relationship with Light—or rather, he was convinced that L had treated Light like…like a _pet_ rather than a lover. "Our plan?" he echoed, realizing that Near was waiting for a response. He appeared to be growing increasingly concerned. "You already told me our plan," he reminded him harshly. "You told me that we were going to hunt Kira and Beyond down and send them to their executions."

L wasn't blind to the look that passed between his successors. He didn't know what it meant, but he knew that it wasn't good.

"Yes, well…" Near sighed. "I must admit, I told you that without speaking to the other successors first. We had a little meeting, and we've decided that perhaps I was a bit harsh. You were right, L—we shouldn't just kill them without at least attempting to get Light back."

L was immediately suspicious. "No. You wouldn't change your mind without a good reason. You're lying, aren't you? You want me to help you track Kira down, and then you're just going to kill him. Beyond too."

"No," Near assured calmly. "L, please listen to me—I am genuinely sorry that I acted the way I did; I foolishly allowed my emotions to get the better of me without applying logic and reasoning to the situation."

"Explain yourself," L demanded, neither accepting nor denying Near's apology.

And so he did. In one, simple sentence, Near both saved and destroyed L's entire world.

"We have come to the conclusion that destroying the Death Note will save Light."

L's breath caught in his throat. For a long, tense moment he was completely unable to breathe. Destroy the notebook…save Light? Was it really that simple? And if it was…L had foolishly let Kira take the Death Note away without so much as attempting to destroy it. "You think that destroying the notebook will be the same as relinquishing ownership?" he asked sharply, his voice rising without his consent.

"Yes, we are almost certain. When the three of us spoke of our plan, Mello was kind enough to inform me that I was acting idiotically, and developed the idea of burning the notebook to save Light. Matt agreed with him, naturally, and it didn't take long for me to realize that the both of them were most likely correct. And even if I hadn't been convinced, I've been outvoted. We've already told the task force, and they want to go along with Mello's plan as well. So that's what we plan to do—we will track Kira and Beyond down, take the notebooks, and burn them. And if that doesn't work, we have agreed to allow you to confine Kira until you can figure out how to purge him from the mind of the one you love."

L was speechless. Just a few hours ago he'd been contemplating how he would sneak Kira away from the successors in order to get Light back—and now, it appeared that Near was just…letting him have his way? He turned his gaze on the other two successors. "Is this true?" he demanded, not allowing himself to believe Near just yet.

Mello shrugged. "Yeah, sure is. Look, L, I may not like Light, but that doesn't mean that I want to kill him without attempting to get rid of Kira first. If you love him, that's good enough for me—we'll do our best to save him. Quite frankly, Near was way out of line when he made that damn plan without consulting us first. We would never have let him say those things to you if he'd known."

"Matt?" L asked, turning his gaze on the third successor. He trusted Mello and Near, he really did—but Matt had never been able to hide his emotions very well, and he was terrible at lying. If this was just a ruse, and the successors were planning to use him to find Beyond and Kira, then the giveaway would lie with Matt. He would be unable to lie to L—he'd never been able to get away with anything when he dealt with the detective. "Matt, please tell me—is it the truth?"

The brunette froze. His head had remained down throughout the whole of the conversation, his eyes locked on the Gameboy clutched in both hands. The shouldering cigarette protruding from his mouth quivered slightly, and the next moment one hand shot up to hold it steady between two fingers. The room seemed suddenly filled with tension as Matt slowly, oh so slowly, raised his head. He stared at L through orange-tinted goggles. And then, one hand grasped said goggles, and Matt pulled them down around his neck. "L," he began, eyes locking firmly onto the detective's. "I swear to you, we believe that destroying the Death Note will save Light. We intend to track Beyond and Kira down, and we intend to destroy both Death Notes, saving Light, and sending Beyond off to jail—permanently, this time. Nothing we are doing is an attempt to deceive you. We are not lying to you. We are not attempting to pull the wool over your eyes."

"Promise me, Matt. No— _all of you,_ promise me."

Near was the first to speak, his voice loud and clear. "I promise."

"Yeah," Mello agreed, "I promise as well."

L's gaze turned to Matt. He stared at L, eyes brimming with an unreadable emotion, throat visibly constricting as he swallowed thickly. "L…" he rasped, and Near and Mello were both fixing him with sharp glares, even as his lips closed momentarily, his tongue darting out to run over them. And then he seemed to steady himself, that strange emotion fleeing his eyes, his body growing still. He removed the cigarette from between his lips, and then he spoke. "L," he said again, "I promise."

L's posture deflated immediately. For a moment he'd been convinced that the successors' plan was a lie—Matt had seemed especially nervous. But if he were lying, then L knew that he would never have been able to look him dead in the eyes and promise the things he had. It had to be the truth—if Matt swore by it, then it was undoubtedly the truth. He felt a flood of warmth fill him. He'd misjudged his successors—they really were trying to help him, weren't they? They were good, honest people…and he valued them greatly. With their help, he could save Light. "Thank you," he said softly, allowing a small smile to creep its way across his lips. "Thank you for letting me save Light. I know that it's not the logical course of action, considering the circumstances, but just the same, you're going to help me do it—and for that, I cannot thank you enough."

"Yeah," Mello responded cheerily. "No problem, L. We know how much you care about the guy."

"Of course," Near agreed calmly. "Although it would most likely be easier to kill them, this will be better for everyone involved. Using the method of destroying the Death Notes, no one will have to die."

"No one _else_ will have to die," Matt corrected darkly, and all present knew that he was thinking of Aizawa.

"Yes," L murmured in response. "No one else…"

Near was suddenly at L's side, offering him his laptop. "Now, L—I don't believe you wish to return to the investigation room quite yet, not after your fight with Soichiro—but would you consider continuing to work on the case? We haven't managed to locate Kira or Beyond just yet, and we'd appreciate your help on the matter."

L hesitated, not reaching for the laptop.

"L…" Near sighed. "With all due respect, there is no reason for you to cease working—if you're scared of somehow provoking Kira, then you shouldn't be, for there is nothing else that he can take from you. You've lost the only thing you really care about, so you shouldn't have any trouble working to get that thing back."

L shook his head darkly. "You're wrong."

Near frowned. "What?"

Near…he really was a fool at times, wasn't he? "You think I have nothing left to lose?" L asked rhetorically, a small smile on his face. "You're wrong. There is still much that Kira can take away from me."

"I fail to follow your meaning."

"Isn't it obvious?" Now L's small smile broadened, turning genuinely pleased in nature. "I have you. The three of you—you're more than just my successors, you're my friends. The fact that you'd sacrifice logic in order to save Light proves it. _That's_ why I believe that I still have much to lose. Because if Kira kills you, I'd be devastated. I'd be losing some of my only friends in this world. Some of my best friends." He reached out slowly, taking the offered laptop. He would work with his successors, of course—he had no reason not to. He'd simply been frozen for a moment, frozen as he realized that at any moment, Kira and Beyond could kill them all. "Thank you," he murmured. "Really. You truly are some of my only friends."

Matt suddenly lurched forward, his Gameboy clattering from his fingers. For a long moment he simply stared at L, chest heaving, a nauseated expression on his face.

"Matt?" L questioned, concerned. The successor looked physically ill, as if he were about to vomit.

Matt's fists clenched at his sides, and the cigarette he'd been smoking fell to the ground, the ashes scattering out around his feet in a thin layer. "L!" he choked out, conflict in his eyes. "L, there's something you should know—!"

L frowned, gazing up at him confusedly. "Matt? What is it?" What could possibly be troubling him?

"Yes, Matt," Near agreed stiffly. "What's the problem?"

The third ranked successor shot Near a pained look. His lips parted for a moment, and he was clearly about to speak—but then he halted, the words on the tip of his tongue failing to take off. "Oh…" he trailed off, posture deflating depressingly. He slowly stooped, gathering his Gameboy and the half-smoked cigarette, disposing of the latter in the nearby trash bin. "It's just that…well, you know, we care about you a lot, okay? So we'd never…we'd never try to hurt you."

L felt a small prickle of unease at those words, but he pushed it down. He was probably just being paranoid again. "Of course, Matt," he said warmly. "I cannot thank you enough for your aid." He settled his laptop over his thighs, opening the lid determinedly. "You have inspired me." He began typing, then paused, looking up at his successors. "Oh, I apologize—it was rather rude of me to begin working without dismissing you. Please, return to the investigation room at once. Let's work on catching Kira and Beyond together." With that, and without waiting to see if his successors left the room or not, L returned his gaze to the computer. He was the most focused he'd been in the three or four days since Kira's takeover. Now he had a clear goal in mind, and the assurance that Kira would not be killed prematurely—and it was feeding him the confidence he needed to continue working rather than melting back into the puddle of despair he'd degraded to.

He was so focused, in fact, that he did not notice the meaningful look that passed between his successors, congratulating each other on a job well done.

†††

Two weeks passed without incident.

There were no abnormal deaths—only a mass of reported heart attacks among criminals, as per usual. The rates of killing had decreased slightly, but only by a few dozen a day. There was not yet a way—at least, not one that L or the successors had discovered—to track down the two murderers. They remained cloaked in shadow, no doubt planning their next move carefully.

And so, for lack of new evidence, things went on as they normally did. L found that he had regained some of his reasoning skills, although the pain of Light's departure hadn't faded in the least. But now that he had a definite goal in mind—the destruction of the Death Note—he was able to push that pain down like he had his entire life, hiding his emotions behind the mask he'd barely been able to make presentable. And thanks to that mask he was now able to examine evidence critically once again, much to the relief of the successors. But unfortunately, with his newly discovered ability to think logically, his ability sleep had vanished, most likely due to the pain he was suppressing. Even when he could sleep, he was plagued by horrible nightmares. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and he caught the successors trying to slip sedatives into his coffee more than once. He didn't blame them. After all… they were nearing the end of their second week trying to track Kira and Beyond down, and L had barely slept a wink. Now that he knew—or at least, strongly suspected—that destroying the notebooks would return Light to his former self, he couldn't bring himself to rest. He had to find Kira and Beyond. He had to get close enough to destroy the notebook. He had to get his lover back.

But unfortunately, things hadn't gone well so far. Beyond and Kira both knew how to cover their tracks, and cover them well—and whenever one made a mistake, the other was there to catch it before anyone noticed. It was an endless loop of absent leads and groundless assumptions. More coffee was consumed daily than ever before; dark bags began to appear under everyone's eyes, not just L's. Innocent people were still dying, but the rate had slowed considerably. Kira wasn't stupid. He knew exactly how many people to leave alive so that the world wouldn't collapse in on itself. He was _teasing_ them. Teasing L using his lover's face, his body, attempting to throw him off. And as unfortunate as it was, the attempt was working. L was almost constantly distracted, be it by the alluring call of sugar or by the swell of agony in his chest every time he saw something that reminded him of Light, something that brought the memory of the beautiful teen to the forefront of his mind. Perhaps his eyes would graze Light's empty seat in the investigation room, his hair products and body wash in the shower, his empty side of the bed, or worse—the handcuffs. L had been too shocked to think about the cuffs at first. But after his head had cleared slightly he'd removed them from the drawer in which they were placed after Light requested to be taken to see the task force. L had proceeded to lock one end around his left wrist, wind the chain around his forearm a few times, and lock the other end around his arm as well. It served as a sort of large, heavy bracelet—every clink of the chain reminding L that all of this was _his_ fault. And Soichiro… he was right. The man hadn't spoken a word to L after their previous conversation. But even if he had, what could L say to him? "Hey, I'm sorry I got your son possessed by a mass-murderer. Are we cool?" No. L figured that he at least had to forgive himself before he dared to ask forgiveness from anyone else. And he wasn't an idiot. He was never going to forgive himself. He would die like this, he was sure, unless he retrieved Light.

And to retrieve Light, he had to burn the notebook…and to burn the notebook, he had to find Kira and Beyond…and to find Kira and Beyond, he had to stop distracting himself with trivial thoughts such as the ones that were currently flooding his mind. If he wanted to win, then he had to _focus._ If he didn't, and if he couldn't find some clue that he'd missed, then it would all be over.

It was with this mentality that he hoped, _prayed_ that there would be a break in the case, some miraculous mistake made by Kira and Beyond, no matter how small, that could give him even the beginning of a clue as to where to search for them. And then, after nearly two weeks of hoping…

"L, something has occurred."

L looked up from the computer screen blearily. He vaguely heard rustling from the seats beside him, and he knew that Matt, Mello, and Near were turning towards his monitor curiously. The rest of the task force had already gone home—it was well after one in the morning—so they weren't around to hear what would be said. "Yes, Watari?" L rasped, his voice low and tired. "What is it?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "I'm afraid that there have been hundreds of deaths in England."

L's mind went blank for one, terrifying moment. "Ah…" he broke off, mouth feeling as if cotton had been shoved forcibly between his teeth. "Heart attacks?"

"Yes."

L's eyes slid closed, blocking out the soft words the successors were exchanging behind him. _The mask,_ he reminded himself. _Keep the mask on._ _I will not allow myself to break down once more._ This was odd… so far, Kira's killings had been centered mostly in Japan, with scattered deaths throughout the US and Europe. For the deaths to suddenly be concentrated in England… "He's pressuring me. No, he's pressuring _all_ of us. But what does he want us to do? Back off? Fight him? After all, Kira hates to lose, and in order to win he has to have an opponent."

"I can't answer that," Watari replied evenly. "All I can tell you is that the number of deaths is growing steadily there each day—and those being targeted are all innocents."

A hand ran through dark hair. "I understand. Please leave me now."

Watari was gone a moment later, leaving L to stare at the computer screen, unable to register any of the information on it. The successors' voices were growing in volume, but he didn't hear them, nor did he make any attempt to join their conversation. He simply stared unseeingly at the monitor before him, mind whirring away frantically. Then, he did something that he barely remembered.

He smiled.

It didn't quite reach his eyes, but L still curved his lips in a way that had once been so familiar. "This is it," he said aloud. "This is his mistake." Hope swirled in his core. If Kira was doing what he thought he was, then Beyond had to go to England in order to carry out Kira's plan. That meant that they no longer had each other's support. They no longer had each other to help with their plans. They were alone.

Yes… this was good. This was where Kira would make his fatal mistake.

"This is our chance," Near announced, glancing at L for confirmation. L nodded proudly at his successor, gesturing for him to continue. "Kira and Beyond are separated—one, probably Beyond, is in England, and the other, probably Kira, is here. One notebook is most likely with Beyond, the other with Kira. Each possesses a shinigami, but without each other's help they will be more prone to mistakes. We must be especially watchful during this time."

"Watchful it is," Mello grumbled irritably. "As if we haven't been watchful enough over the past two weeks…"

"But that's not all," Near insisted in a soft tone, ignoring Mello. "If Kira is having Beyond concentrate his killings in England, then…"

"Yes," L agreed. "You're right."

"What will we do about it?" Near asked quietly. "Should we inform Roger of the impending danger? He could evacuate the orphans, and—"

"No," L responded, his voice hushed. "It is already too late."

That drew Matt's attention. His head snapped up, eyes blazing furiously as he snapped, "What the hell, L? You're not going to do anything? You're not even going to warn them?"

"There's no point. Beyond isn't an idiot—he most likely waited until he already knew the names of all those residing in the orphanage before he began killing innocents in England. That way, any efforts to evacuate would be futile, for he would already know everything he had to know in order to kill them all."

Matt's eyes blazed. "You said that it's _likely,_ L. That means that there's still a chance he hasn't already found their names, right? So get one of your agents over there and warn Roger about the _monster_ that's coming for him, for _all_ the orphans! If there's even the slightest chance that we can save them, then let's take it!"

L dipped his head, running a thumb over his bottom lip, but didn't respond.

Near, seeing his hesitation, spoke up immediately. "Please, Matt, calm yourself. It's true that Beyond has most likely already written the names of the orphans. But still, I, at least, fully intend to warn the residents of the orphanage. I'll send an urgent message to Roger as soon as we're done here, and I fully intend to contact Wedy and Aiber so we can send them to the orphanage as insurance. This way, if there's still a chance to save the orphans, we'll find a way to do it."

Matt's voice was low as he spoke, trembling with every word. "You realize that if he succeeds, everyone in Wammy's House will die."

Silence. Long, impenetrable silence.

Then, "Yes, I do realize that," Near murmured. "That is why we are going to do everything in our power to make sure that Beyond does not succeed." He raised his head, locking eyes with Matt. "Like I said, Kira and Beyond are more prone to mistakes when they're apart. Now is the best time to catch them both. Now, before they have the chance to join together once more."

Matt looked away at once. "I don't like this," he growled in a low tone, and the look that flashed between the three successors was one that held meaning that L could not understand. "I don't like _any_ of this."

"You don't have to like it," Mello shot. "Just go along with it. We'll send Wedy and Aiber to England, and warn Roger so he can evacuate the orphanage. And while that's happening, we'll do our best to track down Kira and Beyond while they're separated."

Matt's gaze didn't rise from the floor, but he still nodded shortly. "Yeah," he grumbled, "Whatever."

And with that, the successors went back to work, faces turned away from L. But L did not return to his monitor. He stared ahead, eyes locked on the wall, and thought. Beyond was going to try to murder the orphans. He was going to try to distract L and the successors using their deaths…but distract them from what? L chewed on his thumb thoughtfully. _Destroy the notebooks…relinquish possession…send Beyond to England…distract us from something…one notebook with each person…one shinigami with each person…what does it mean?_

He had a feeling that he was missing something, something major. Something that should have been obvious…

And then he remembered it. Something Light had told him, something he'd said about Rem, the shinigami possessing him. Rem cared especially for Misa. Rem would not leave Misa's side. And while L seriously doubted that Kira had allowed Rem to go back to Misa, there was still a chance…

"Rem," L whispered aloud, though none of his successors heard. "Rem knows where Kira is…and he's alone, so he won't have Beyond or Ryuk to help him. If I can just convince her, just find a way to get her to tell me where Kira is…"

L smiled, and this time it was genuine. This was it. Rem would be the piece that changed the game. She would be the pawn that reached the heart of the enemy, the pawn that was switched out for a queen. But, L wondered, would that pawn-turned-queen desire to help him?

 _Well,_ L thought, composing himself once more. _I suppose only time will tell._

†††

The child shinigami flew over the red sea.

His features twisted in disgust as he looked around him—everywhere, no matter where he turned his gaze, was bathed in red. It had been a long while since he'd been in Light's mind, admittedly. He almost felt bad, leaving the boy to run endlessly with no chance of escape. He'd left him to die, in a manner of speaking—and now here he was, flying over the sea that had consumed Light Yagami without so much as a shred of mercy. He'd been watching, of course when Kira had pushed the teen off that snowy cliff and into the water below. He'd watched as Light sank through endless scarlet, his body leaving trails of pink bubbles behind until finally, after what felt like eons, he settled against the ocean floor. And, of course, he'd watched as the boy's lungs filled with water, as his eyes had slipped closed, and as his heart nearly stopped beating entirely. The water—it was like a sort of sedative, a sick type of poison that kept Light submissive and easily controlled. The child shinigami wasn't sure how much the boy remembered, or if he could see what was happening outside his own mind, but he _was_ sure that Light wouldn't be waking up without help, not so long as that water was acting as a powerful sort of liquid hypnosis.

He was there to provide that help.

He sensed something radiating from the water below. Ah, yes, he'd know that presence anywhere. The child shinigami paused, hovering above the water for a moment. And then, soaring on wings visible only to him, he climbed several feet into the air, spun on axis, and plunged headfirst into the water. The stuff swirled around him, engulfing him entirely, attempting to corrupt him as it had Light.

 _He's strong,_ the child realized, feeling the water tugging at him powerfully, urging him to fall asleep. _He's even managing to affect_ me…

The child continued to swim downwards, propelling himself through the scarlet waves. The water wished for him to sleep, for him to slip away like Light…but it wasn't strong enough to overwhelm him. He kept up his swift pace, eyes scanning the ocean floor. Although the scarlet water appeared thick and cloudy from above, it was actually crystal clear from within—though, of course, everything was tinted slightly red. And so it was quite easy for the child shinigami to locate the dark lump on the ocean floor—a lump that just so happened to be in the shape of one Light Yagami.

A moment later, he'd reached him. The shinigami reached out and gathered Light's collar in one hand, tugging him upwards. The teen didn't move a muscle, nor did he show any sign that he knew he was being touched.

"Light," the child urged, his voice distorted by water. And when he got no response, he said it again. "Light…"

There was no response—not that the child shinigami had expected one. He shifted his grip to the back of Light's neck and turned his gaze skyward. Without a second thought, he began to move upwards, pulling the teen's inert body with him. His heart was barely beating, his lungs were completely filled with water, and his skin was cold and clammy to the touch. Yes, this was the time…this was the time the child shinigami would awaken him. This was the time he would pull him from the sedative-like water, wrenching him from Kira's deceptive influence.

"You won't be able to regain control if I do this," he murmured to the unconscious boy. "You won't have the strength to fight, but you will have consciousness once again. Do not fear, Light…this is how you are meant to be. Don't you understand? I had to let him win; I had to let Kira consume you. I had to do it in order to set this world on its desired path."

They were close to the surface now. Just a few more feet, and they would break free from the water's grasp.

"Come with me, Light," the child whispered, though the teen still showed no signs of awakening. "It is time for you awaken—and more importantly, it is time for us to have a little chat. You have questions for me, no? Let us clarify all that you do not understand."

And with those words fresh on his tongue, the child shinigami pulled Light up the few remaining feet, and broke the surface of the water.

 **Now, on to important matters: school is beginning, and seeing as I am still enrolled in said school, it's possible that I'll have to resign myself to posting twice a week instead of three times—but I'm going to do everything I can to keep up the thrice weekly schedule (including editing pretty much every remaining moment of break), so let's cross our fingers and hope I can pull it off.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please don't forget to leave me a review if you did!**


	18. After the Flood

**Welcome to chapter eighteen. I** _ **know**_ **that right now the story is a whole lot of talking and a lot less action, but it's** _ **necessary**_ **for the plot. I've made sure countless times that every conversation the characters have is relevant and important to the advancement of the plot—if that bores you, I'm sorry, but that's just how it has to be. Now, I didn't lie last time—from this point on, there will be no more sitting around and moping. However, until chapter twenty-one, most of the story is dialogue.** _ **Relevant**_ **dialogue, but dialogue just the same. Look at it this way—you just have to wait three updates until you get to the good stuff, and after that it's all rising action. Until then, I hope you can put up with my slow-moving conversations.**

… **On a happier note, thanks if you reviewed! You made my day!**

 **Chapter 18: After the Flood**

Where I was, it was dark.

It was dark, yes, but it was also deceptively warm and comforting, as if I were engulfed in a soft, fluffy bed, being held in the state between sleep and awareness. I wasn't quite sure how many days I'd been in this state, but I knew it couldn't have been for long. I remembered small flashes—Kira pushing me off the cliff, the red water filling my lungs, the darkness completely washing over me. And after that I remembered a few images, a series of sounds—and those were the worst of all. I remembered being forced to watch as Kira awoke, twisting my face into a harsh smile that didn't suit me at all. And what was worse was that L didn't even realize that it wasn't me. Kira had even messed up—he'd called L _Ryuzaki,_ of all things, but the detective still hadn't noticed. Even when Kira had pinned him against a wall in the bathroom and done those unspeakable things to him, L hadn't realized that the person he was dealing with wasn't me. After that, the next thing I remembered was Aizawa—and the instant Kira pulled the trigger, I threw everything I had at him in an attempt to overthrow him—which wasn't much, seeing as I couldn't move a muscle. But the instant Kira felt me kicking, he'd done something to me. I wasn't sure what it was, seeing as I couldn't see him, but I could certainly _feel_ him—and I felt it all too clearly when he curled a hand around my throat and stole the rest of my strength, reducing me to a limp, shaking mess. I hadn't been able to move since.

After that, my memories blacked out for a while; I'd fallen asleep as a result of Kira's actions. The next thing I remembered was that very first night with Beyond—and I wanted more than anything to wash away those memories with a nice gallon of bleach poured straight into my skull. The only thing I had to be thankful for was the fact that Kira had not turned me over to Beyond as a chew toy as he'd threatened. After that night, I could remember nothing. In fact, I wasn't even sure how long I'd been sleeping now. Perhaps it had been a day, perhaps a week. All I knew was that I was completely unaware as to what was happening outside my own little portion of my mind. But…was it really _my_ mind anymore? I knew that if I were able to open my eyes, I would see that all the silver in my mind was gone. There was only red. I wasn't even sure how I was managing to maintain consciousness—and perhaps my increasing amount of time spent asleep meant that I was steadily _losing_ the ability to maintain consciousness. The thought terrified me.

"Light."

That voice again. It had been calling me on and off for a while now, always just out of reach. But today—tonight?—it seemed different. Louder. Closer.

"Light."

 _Leave me alone,_ I thought, and that voice chuckled, but didn't say another word. Instead, I felt someone grab me. I had lost perception of where my body was and what I was feeling, but someone _had_ grabbed me— _that_ I knew for certain. There was a small, cool hand clutching at the back of my neck like a fishing hook, and that hand was tugging me upwards. My body moved with the hand as if I was floating along through space—or more likely, drifting through water. Red water.

The red sea.

"Light," that voice chuckled. "It's time to wake up now, Light. You've been sleeping for long enough, and we need to have a little chat."

I knew that voice, I thought, but I was too disorientated to place a name or a face to the sound. Instead, I tried to shake my head—and succeeded in moving just a fraction of an inch. I twisted my face into a frown, and found suddenly that I was the most alert I'd been in…days? Weeks? Months? I didn't know.

"Come on, you're almost there…"

I tried to suck in a breath, but my lungs wouldn't function. I wasn't breathing, I realized with a start. I wasn't breathing, hadn't been for who knew how long, and yet I remained alive. I felt my body moving upwards, floating up through what I presumed to be water, though it didn't feel wet against my flesh. That hand was tightening its grip on the back of my neck as my body seemed to increase in weight, dragging me back down into the endless waves. But that hand, that insistent, stubborn hand, kept pulling me upwards with all its might, and I realized dimly that it was overcoming the water's pull. The closer I got to what I presumed to be the surface, the more I could hear, the more I could remember. My mind became the clearest it had been in forever, and I found myself straining to reach the surface, relieved when my sluggish limbs began to come to life. The water was rushing around me now, filling my ears, pressing down on my eyelids. I could feel the current washing over my entire body, and the hand wrenched my body upwards even harder.

And then, mercifully, finally, I breached the water's surface.

That hand was still pulling at me, and a heartbeat later I felt solid land beneath my unnaturally heavy body. I was being dragged up a gentle slope, the sound of the lapping waves fading slightly. And then that hand released me, leaving me to lie upon the ground, motionless. I still wasn't breathing, and though I could move a few centimeters if I tried, it was utterly exhausting.

"Your lungs will start working again in a few moments," that voice assured me gently.

And then, as if those words were the key, they did. I felt the sudden, horrible desire to breathe—and the instant I tried to draw breath I realized that water was clogging up my lungs, and I began coughing and hacking miserably. My whole body shook, and the movement seemed to wrench the rest of me from my stupor. I tried to roll onto my front to make expelling the water easier, but I hadn't the strength. Whoever was beside me seemed to understand, and those small hands descended upon me a heartbeat later, rolling me over so my stomach rested against the ground. I hacked, and water spattered from my lungs painfully.

"Easy," he murmured. "Easy, Light…it'll pass."

Water spewed from my lips for a few heartbeats longer before slowing to a steady drip. The next few breaths I drew brought upon furious fits of coughing, but I still managed to get some much-needed air into my oxygen-deprived system. I felt incredibly weak—my whole body thrummed with miserable weakness, hands shaking horribly as I attempted to push myself up enough to identify my rescuer.

"Are you okay?" said rescuer was asking.

I forced myself to nod, croaking out, "Yes…" I had to break off to cough before I could continue. My eyes were firmly glued shut, so I had no hope of identifying this person by sight alone. "How long have I been down there?"

"Oh…about two weeks, I'd say. A little more."

I mentally tugged at my eyes, and the lids parted just a centimeter—not enough for me to really see what was going on. "Who…?" I rasped.

"Why, Light! You don't recognize me? For shame, for shame! I go through all this trouble to break you out, and you don't even know who to thank. If this is all the thanks I get, then maybe I should have just let you die in that hospital."

It clicked immediately. "Shinigami!" I burst out. My mind was so foggy that I hadn't recognized his voice, but now it made sense. I had so many questions for the child shinigami, all of them whirling about inside my head—where to begin?

"Calm down," the child instructed. "You've been unconscious for several days now; just let your body recover. Your sight will return to you soon enough, but I don't think you'll like what you find."

I waited, just as he instructed. But in the meantime, I did not stay quiet. "Why wasn't I breathing?" I demanded. "How did I stay alive without oxygen? And what the hell was that water doing to me? I felt so weak…"

The child shinigami sighed deeply. "I should have known you wouldn't pause before bombarding me with questions."

I barely heard him. In a mere moment my mind had flooded with panic as I slowly realized that he'd _won._ Kira had won, I'd fallen into the red sea, I'd let him take control—! I was already struggling for breath, but now I was practically gasping, panting heavily but failing to draw in the oxygen I so desperately needed. I felt as though I was breathing through a straw—my throat had closed in on itself, my mouth felt as if it were filled with glue, and my entire body was shaking so violently that I feared I might be about to slip into something akin to a seizure.

"Light," the child shinigami said immediately, hands shooting out to rest on my shoulders. "Please—calm down. You're going to hurt yourself it you go on like this."

I managed a short shake of the head, struggling to open my eyes. Maybe if I could just see where I was, my panic would lessen…

The shinigami spoke again. "Do not panic. I assure you, you are perfectly safe here." He paused. "Well, safe enough for the moment."

A minute passed, and I couldn't regain my breath. Every time I came close to some semblance of control, some other horrifying detail of my predicament came flooding back, and I was reduced once more to a gasping, choking mess. I had the vague realization that if this went on, I would hyperventilate.

"Hush…" the shinigami murmured, his tone awkwardly comforting, as if he didn't quite know how to handle the situation he was presented with. Clearly he hadn't expected me to immediately fall into a fit of hysterics. "Calm yourself. Breathe in _slowly…_ good, now breathe out—no, not like that! Slowly, Light, slowly… Good, good, now do it again…and again…just focus on breathing." He rubbed circles on my back stiffly. "Just keep breathing."

It was several more minutes before I drew one last hitching breath, then released all the air within my lungs with one great _whoosh._ The next time I inhaled, the death grip on my lungs relaxed, my body ceased its shaking, and finally, _finally,_ my throat opened up once more.

"There," the child shinigami murmured. "You're okay. You're still alive."

"I…" I trailed off, coughing for a few moments. My voice was painfully raspy, and my throat felt like sandpaper. "I'm alive…"

"Yes."

I managed to roll onto my back, and immediately winced as the bumpy ground pressed into my skin. My hands began to shake again, and I swiftly tucked them under my body to quiet the impulsive movements. "Why?" I rasped belatedly. "How?"

I felt cool fingers run across my forehead, and the child shinigami responded, "You are alive because Kira did not have the chance to kill you. That red water wasn't deadly, you see. It's more like…well, I suppose the closest word you have for it in your language is _sedative._ It puts you to sleep, lulls you into a false sense of security until you barely know what's happening outside of your own mind. Its job is to keep you compliant. And then, after you're nice and submissive, it eats you alive."

"What?" I yelped out. "You said it wasn't deadly!"

"Oh, yes…I suppose that wasn't true. What I meant to say was that it wasn't deadly at _first._ Quite honestly, I have no idea how long you'd have to stay in the stuff before it killed you. It could be weeks, it could be years. But eventually, it _would_ kill you."

"N-no way," I stuttered. "That stuff…it'll actually…?"

"Yes, it will—at least, it _would_ have if I hadn't just pulled you out."

And that just brought on a whirlwind of questions. "Why?" _How was I able to survive without breathing? How am I still conscious after being consumed by all that water? Why did you wait so long to pull me out? Will I be able to fight Kira now? Why can't I open my eyes? And…is this shinigami really evil? Rem warned me not to talk to him, but…I don't exactly have a choice. Is he really so bad?_ The list went on, and on…there were so many questions that eventually I just turned my head in the shinigami's general direction and whispered, "Why?"

"Why what?"

I fidgeted, finding that strength was slowly returning to my limbs. "Just…why?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

I swallowed hard. Where to begin? So much was beyond my understanding… "Will you answer my questions?" I asked finally.

When he responded, the shinigami sounded vaguely irritated. "To the best of my ability, yes. It is time, I think, to give you a few of those long-sought-after answers."

My mind seized for a moment. I had so many questions that I hardly knew where to begin. "Start…" I trailed off. "Start at the beginning. Why did you save me in the hospital, and how did you do it? According to everyone I've talked to, my lifespan was about to hit zero, but you brought it back up. I want to know how and why you did such a thing."

The child sighed. "Very well, then. I will grant you that. It is true that I saved your life in the hospital. I saved you because you weren't meant to die just then, no matter what your lifespan said. I knew that I needed you—that the _world_ needed you. And so when I saw you dying, I knew that I had to save you, and so I did."

"How did you know that I needed to remain alive?" I questioned. "My lifespan was at its end, so I was supposed to die, right? What makes you think that the world still needs me?"

"That I cannot tell you," the shinigami responded promptly. "I am sorry, but there are still some things that I cannot divulge. "Suffice it to say that I know what this world is meant to be like—and should you have died in that hospital, the world would not have taken shape in the way it was meant to."

I sighed, irritated. "Fine, then. How did you do it?"

"That is also classified information."

He sounded like an FBI agent. "You said you'd tell me!"

"I said that I'd tell you as much as I could. In no way did I promise to tell you everything I knew."

I grumbled, "Fine, you win. Then my next question is, who are you? And what's your name?"

He laughed. "I'm sorry, but you keep asking about things I can't answer. I can't tell you who I am, and I do not remember my name."

"How the hell did you forget your own name?" I demanded. "That's kind of important, you know!"

There was a pause, and though I couldn't see him, I was certain that the shinigami was shrugging carelessly. "I had a name once, but that feels like millennia ago now. I was the only one that ever knew it, and none of the other shinigami ever addressed me by it. So over time, I just…forgot. I don't make a habit of hanging on to information that doesn't concern me any longer."

As he spoke, I tried to open my eyes, but failed once again. "Fine—then how are you in my head? That's not something that normal shinigami can do!"

"There are lots of things that most shinigami don't know they can do. If they'd just stop their incessant gambling, perhaps they would realize that their powers are much greater than they can hope to realize. But they never stop gambling, they never stop _wasting their time,_ and so they do not realize. I, on the other hand, am not only several eons older than the other shinigami, but I spend exactly zero percent of my time gambling. Therefore, using that extra time, I have been able to perfect certain powers that other shinigami do not even know they possess. It is with one of those abilities that I have found a way to materialize within your mind, Light Yagami. Of course, I am not here physically, for that would be impossible. I'm here mentally, just as you are."

"Then how can you touch me?"

He shrugged. "Everything in your mind operates on the same frequency—you tune in to this place like a radio tunes in to a station. I've simply adjusted my frequency, so to speak, so I am able to tune in to this place as well. Due to that, it is possible for me to not only touch you, but to manipulate certain aspects of the environment."

Good enough. "Okay, then. What about the fake rules in the Death Note? Why did you erase them?"

"Oh, that one's easy. First off, it's insulting—I go through all the trouble of adding a "How to Use It" section, and suddenly you come along and add fake rules? That's not very polite. It's offensive, actually—and so naturally I wanted those disgusting rules removed at once. And more importantly, if I'd allowed those rules to remain, then my entire plan would have been thrown out of order. I told you that I know how this world is supposed to turn out, yes? Well, if I'd allowed those rules to remain in place, then that ideal world couldn't be achieved. It's a bit hard to explain, now that I think about it—but, you see, I wanted L to figure out that burning the notebook would be the same as relinquishing possession. And if I'd allowed that rule about destroying the notebook remain in place, then he would never have considered it. And although he wasn't the one who figured it out, and it was a bit later than I'd hoped, it still worked out in the end. As for the thirteen day rule…well, that one was just offensive. There's really no reason for me to let it stay when it's such an eyesore."

Only one thing stuck from that little speech. L knew that burning the notebook would save me. He knew that Kira could be vanquished. Was it possible…that I could be saved? Was it even plausible to hope that I would live through this? "He knows…" I whispered, stunned. "He knows that burning the Death Note will work…"

"He _suspects,"_ the child shinigami corrected. "He isn't certain, but he will be soon enough. He should be having a chat with Rem right about now, so he'll soon understand just what's going on behind the scenes."

The mention of Rem immediately brought quite a pressing question to the forefront of my mind, and before I could stop to examine the shinigami's response in full, I'd already blurted it out. "But Rem…she said that you were evil. Care to tell me what she meant by that?"

"She meant that I am evil."

I groaned. "Yes, I understand that. What I mean to ask is—well…are you evil? Is she right?"

He laughed. "Surely you can't expect to believe my answer. I'm the one being accused of evil intentions, so you can't exactly trust anything I say, now, can you?"

"Answer the question."

"Very well. If you want to know the truth, then I will tell you." There was a moment of silence. "I suppose that you might call me evil."

My whole body tensed. I immediately moved to get away from the child, but all it took was a hand pressed to my chest to keep me down.

"Now, now, Light, let's not be hasty about this. I said that you _might_ call me evil—it really depends on who you are and what you believe. After all, evil is just a matter of perspective. There are many people who believe that Kira is the just god of the new world, while others call for his head. Evil depends on who you are and what you believe. And I can assure you, Light, that in your case, I am definitely _not_ evil. To Rem, yes—I am the most despicable being in existence. But _you_ I intend to help." I felt his hand settle over my eyes, stilling my desperate attempts to open them.

I asked, "Why does Rem think you're evil?"

I heard a soft laugh. "You mean you didn't know? I killed Gelus."

"Gelus?" I echoed. "Who's that?"

"Oh…that's right, you don't know. Gelus was a shinigami who fell in love with Misa Amane."

"…What?" That wasn't where I thought the story was going.

"You know that the way to kill a shinigami is for them to purposefully extend a human's lifespan, yes? Well, Gelus loved Misa Amane so much that when her life was about to come to an end, he extended it using his Death Note. Naturally, this meant that he had to die. He dissolved into a sand-like substance and crumbled to nothing. He died, in the truest sense of the word."

"Then you didn't kill him, did you? How was it your fault?"

"Ah, well…that ties into my identity, which I'm not going to tell you. Let's just say that if I didn't exist, the rules wouldn't be enforced. And if the rules weren't enforced, then Gelus wouldn't be dead. So as far as Rem is concerned, I killed a shinigami that she was very good friends with."

I shook my head, feeling the shinigami's hand shift to remain over my eyes. "That can't be it. That's not a good enough reason to call someone evil."

Another long pause. "Fine. You're right, that's not it. Do you want a full list of my crimes, Light Yagami? Then here you go: murder, both of shinigami and humans, collaboration with mortals, betrayal of comrades, lying, manipulation, pursuit of excessive power, interference with the human realm…shall I go on?"

"Is that all?" I asked sarcastically. "Still, it doesn't seem like enough to convict you of being an evil person."

"Well, I suppose I have left one thing out—the fact that ever human I've ever involved myself with has ended up dead."

My heart seemed to freeze in my chest—not just because _I_ was involved with him, but because _L_ was involved as well—as were the task force, the successors, and everyone I cared about. If what the shinigami said was true, then my lover was already doomed, as were the rest of them.

"If you want to know the full truth, then I imagine it goes something like this: at the time in which Rem told you that I was evil, Misa was not yet involved with me, and was therefore, in Rem's eyes, safe from death. Her telling you to avoid me at all costs was likely a weak attempt at protecting Misa from becoming mixed up in all of this. For if you continued to collaborate with me, it would no doubt lead to Misa's involvement as well, which, as Rem knew, would lead to her death. So, in other words, she _does_ believe that I am evil—evil for killing Gelus, evil for committing crimes against my species, evil for enforcing shinigami law—evil for murdering every human I've ever come into contact with. But she is not as concerned with my being evil as she is for Misa's wellbeing. She spoke the truth when she told you to stay away from me due to my nature, but she was also attempting to protect someone whom she cared very much about. Do you understand?"

"Yes…yes, I do." That made perfect sense, actually. Rem had always cared for Misa, and this was just another one of her attempts to protect her at all costs. She hadn't lied, but she'd stretched the truth. But now, at least, I had no more doubts about working with the child shinigami—for if by merely speaking to him in the first place I had doomed myself, then there was nothing holding me back from working with him until he decided to carry out my punishment. I had nothing left to lose. "Then I suppose that you are evil, to me."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are—for if what you say is true, then you're going to kill L at the end of this, as well as the rest of us. That makes you evil in my eyes."

"Well, that's too bad. But I trust you won't have any problems working with me? After all, you've already become involved with me, so there's no use in trying to preserve your life anymore. All that could happen is that I either kill you early, or let you live after this is all done—after all, I told you that this world has to take shape in a certain way—how do you know that you aren't a part of that shape? For all you know, I have to let you and your friends live after all this is done, just to fulfill my image of a perfect world."

He had a point. He was telling me, in as many words, that he wasn't certainly going to kill us. He was giving me hope, telling me that there was a chance that I would be allowed to live the rest of my life in peace if I managed to win. Which, I thought, I wasn't sure if I _would_ win.

"Is there anything else?" the child asked.

Quite honestly, he'd answered all of my big questions—now my mind was turning to the smaller details, the tiny details that I couldn't understand. "Yeah…" I said slowly. "How was I able to survive without oxygen while I was down in that water? Where did you drag me? Why did I lack the need to breathe while I was underwater, but suddenly require oxygen once I reached the surface once more? If you were just going to pull me back out, why did you let Kira consume me in the first place? Why—?"

"Woah, woah!" The child shinigami cut me off. "One at a time!"

"Yes, sorry…" I thought for a moment. "In that case, answer me this: how did I survive so long without breathing?"

The child was smirking; I could hear it in his voice. "Oh, Light…such a irrelevant question. But still, if you wish to know, I will tell you." I heard the brief rustling of cloth. "The answer is…" he said dramatically, and I knew immediately, despite my inability to see, that the expression on his face must have been nothing short of theatrical. "I do not know!"

I stared. No, I _would_ have stared had the shinigami's hand not been sealed over my nonfunctional eyes. "Pardon?"

"Well, you can't expect me to know _everything!"_ he cackled. "Humans are weird, Light. Who knows how your fragile little body handled that water? Perhaps you just grew a set of gills when you weren't watching!" He laughed again.

"Then what about my rude awakening?" I snapped, growing irritated. That was one too many questions he hadn't answered, and I was becoming annoyed. "Why did you let Kira win in the first place if you intended to wake me up again now?"

"What makes you think I had the power to stop Kira from winning?"

I frowned deeply. I…I didn't know. The idea that the child could save me had just formed in my mind at some point, fueled by his seeming knowledge of all things supernatural. I was just certain that he could help me, and I didn't know why. "I…I don't know," I responded belatedly. "You just…you seem powerful."

He sighed, sounding exasperated, but I could tell that he was pleased with my assessment. "Very good, Light. In truth, I suppose I could have done something to help you. But like I've been saying this whole time, _this world is meant to be a certain way._ I know what this world's destiny is, and I intend to help it meet that destiny. And while I may not be able to reveal all the details to any _human,_ trust in the fact that it was necessary for me to let you succumb to Kira—but it was _not_ necessary for me to let that water kill you. Therefore, I decided to save you."

"I see. So this is all a part of your twisted plan, then? Are we all puppets, eternally dancing in the palm of your hand?"

He laughed again, heartily. "Yes, I suppose you could say that. But it's not quite that simple. If I say jump, you jump—but only after I manipulate the circumstances so you have a _reason_ to jump." He sounded very satisfied with himself. "I have to give you a reason to do the things you need to do, correct? This will be your reason. My waking you up will lead you down the correct path."

 _Lead me down the correct path…?_ "Will I be able to take control again?" I asked softly, fearing the answer. "Is that why you woke me up?"

"Well…" he hesitated. "I think I'd better let you open your eyes before we go any further. That might answer a few of those lingering questions you seem so desperate to pelt me with."

Immediately, a surge of trepidation shot through me. It was true that I'd been attempting to see what was around me since I'd awoken, but now that the child shinigami was actually going to let me look around…I was nervous. When I opened my eyes, what would I find? Would there be even the slightest shred of silver? Would I myself be completely covered in scarlet, like a thick layer of blood? Or…would my mind be in shambles, torn apart and crumbling? I swallowed nervously. What if I didn't have a hope of recovery? Almost instantly the thought of never seeing L again filled my mind, and for a heartbeat I was almost convinced that I was going to throw up. But then I clamped down on that nausea, covered up my horrible, sickening fear, and nodded shortly. The child shinigami paused for a long moment after seeing my sign of affirmation. And then, slowly, hesitantly, he drew his hand away…

And I opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was red, which wasn't too far off what I'd expected. But what I _hadn't_ expected to see was the shallow, craggy, rock ceiling hanging a mere six or so feet above me. I blinked several times, re-familiarizing myself with the use of my eyes after so long without them. They burned, as if I'd been lounging about in a chlorinated pool with my eyes open for a few days—no, actually, more like a few _weeks_. I wondered briefly how they looked, and if they were as swollen and irritated as they felt.

The child shinigami said, "Go on, Light. Look around."

I pushed myself up unsteadily, leaning back on my elbows and turning my eyes on the world around me. _Oh…_ I thought woozily, raising one hand to clasp to my forehead as a wave of dizziness swept through me. _Oh, I don't feel so well…_ Ignoring my bought of nausea, I forced myself to take in my surroundings. And what I saw…surprised me.

I…I was in a cave. No, actually, a better word for it would have been _grotto._ It was incredibly small—so small, in fact that should I stretch both arms out on either side of me, my fingertips would have been brushing the walls. Should I have risen, I knew that my head would brush the ceiling. A very _red_ ceiling, I noted—and as I looked around again, I realized with distaste that the whole place was completely scarlet—not that I'd expected any different. I slowly looked down at my own form, fearing the worst, and—

Once again I was choking back vomit. I was just as scarlet as the rest of the cave, as unfortunate as it was. Right down to every last strand of hair on my head. I wondered morbidly if I looked like Kira, if my eyes had turned the same, muddy scarlet as his.

 _No, I won't allow myself to think like that…not now. I have to focus._

With that in mind, I continued my observation of the grotto. I noticed with a start that at the opposite end of the tiny cave, the rocky ground gave way to a tiny patch of scarlet water. But, I noted, since the entrance of the cave was so small—a mere gap that was barley large enough for me to slip in and out of so long as I was crawling—I couldn't see much of said water. It at least allowed me to delude myself into thinking that the water wasn't as expansive as I knew it was. I was struck with the desire to get up and go over to the exit just so I could make sure that the outside world was just as red as it was in here, even though I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was. I pushed myself up shakily, fully preparing to stand up, but before I could get more than a few inches off the ground, the child shinigami pushed me back down with a hand to my chest.

"No," he said firmly, "you can't go outside."

My eyes found him, and I saw that he looked almost exactly the same as when I'd last seen him. Black hair, reddish orange eyes, pale skin. No shoes, black t-shirt, green cargo shorts. "Why not?" I demanded hoarsely. "You think I'm weak, is that why?"

"You _are_ weak," he said shortly. "You wouldn't be able to stand if you wanted to. But besides that, if you go outside, you'll just be sucked back into the water. I'd prefer _not_ to have to dive back down and save you again, so please just _stay here._ "

"If I stay here, then how am I supposed to fight Kira and regain control?" I demanded, folding my arms across my chest like a child. It most likely looked ridiculous, seeing as I was still flat on my back, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

The child shinigami just stared.

"How am I supposed to fight him?" I repeated, a pang of nervousness shooting through me.

He stared some more.

A horrible realization washed over me like a wave of cold water on a hot day. My mouth felt even drier than before, and I had to swallow several times before I could rasp out, "I…I'm not…am I? I'm not supposed to fight him."

The child shook his head minutely.

And just like that, fear gave way to anger. "What the hell?" I spat furiously. "You just want me to sit around and watch him kill L? You want me to let him run rampant over the entire _earth?"_

"Yes," he whispered, his voice nearly inaudible. "That is exactly what I want you to do."

"Well, there's no way in hell I'm going to let that happen!" I snapped. "You've woken me up, and now I'm going to do everything in my power to fight Kira until I win!"

The child raised two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Light Yagami, if you try to fight him, you will die."

"W-what?" I stammered, completely taken aback.

"He will kill you."

"You mean the _water_ will kill me," I corrected hesitantly. "That's what you mean, isn't it? You're saying that if I leave this area, I'll be sucked back into the water, put to sleep, then put to death?"

"That is exactly what I am saying, and exactly why you must remain here if you wish to survive. If you fall back into that water, it will steadily corrupt you beyond recognition, and you will lose your life."

For a moment, my mouth opened and closed helplessly as I attempted to formulate a response. Then, "What's so special about this area? Why do I need to stay _here_ of all places?"

"That's simple. This is the only area left that is not underwater."

I was sure that my eyes had just widened to the size of saucers. "The…the only place?" I echoed. "You mean…the rest of my mind is completely covered in water?"

He nodded shortly. "This is the only place left. Believe it or not, this cave is entirely submerged. It's a sort of bubble beneath the water—a cave attached to the side of that cliff you fell off. So long as you're here, you won't be swallowed up by that water. Unfortunately, there's not any silver left anywhere, so you don't have any way to fight back. That silver was your metaphorical sword, you see, and you've been disarmed."

"How can I get it back?" I demanded.

He chuckled darkly, saying, "Oh, there's no way I'm telling you _that._ If I do, then you might be tempted to fight back—and as I said, that will only lead to your death."

"Tell me," I growled in a low tone.

The child shinigami smirked. "Nope!"

I narrowed my eyes in what I hoped was a threatening expression.

The shinigami raised his hands in a placating gesture, but he didn't look concerned. No doubt I didn't look very threatening, what with my battered form, shaking hands, and raspy breathing. "Sorry, but it's like I told you—I'm not going to let you go out and get yourself needlessly killed. I need you alive in order for this world to meet with its destiny, and so alive you will stay."

"If you don't tell me," I growled, "then I'll be forced to find my own way to fight—and I'll inevitably end up going outside in order to find that way."

The child raised a brow, his expression one of amusement. "You're holding your own life hostage?" he asked with a low chuckle.

I raised my chin defiantly and didn't respond.

"You…"

For just a moment I felt a swell of triumph building in my chest—he was going to tell me! He had to!

"…are an idiot."

My eyes went wide. "What?" I yelped, because no one, _no one,_ in all eighteen years of my life, had _ever_ dared to call me an idiot, even as a joke. I was _Light Yagami!_ I was a genius!

The child shinigami leaned forward, hands resting lightly on his hips. "Tell me, Light, if you get yourself killed, then what will happen?"

"I'll die," I responded stupidly, still too stunned to analyze his words properly.

The child sighed. "What else?"

"Kira will die."

"Yes…what else?"

I frowned. "There…there'll be a funeral?"

"And who will attend that funeral?"

"Ah…the task force members."

"Who else?"

"My family."

"Who else?"

"The successors…?"

"And?"

I hesitated.

"Light…who else?"

I gulped audibly as my heart shot up into the center of my throat. "I suppose…just maybe…"

The child glared. "Stop dancing around the subject. Light—who else?"

My mouth felt dry and sticky again. But still, I parted my cracked lips and forced out the name that so tormented my mind. "L."

"Good," the child said approvingly. "L will attend your funeral. And how do you think he'll feel?"

I clenched my teeth, balling my hands into fists as I glared at the ground. "Don't…" I rasped. "Don't ask me such things."

"He'll be devastated," the child answered for me. "He'll stare down at the body of someone he used to love, and he'll _know,_ Light. He'll know that you were too weak to keep fighting until the end. He'll know that you chose to die when you could have gone on living. He'll know that you gave up on him."

"I did _not—!"_ I snarled, gaining the strength to push myself up against the cave wall. "I did not give up on him! I _haven't_ given up—that's why I need to fight, and why you need to tell me what to do!"

The child shinigami shook his head. "You're threatening to end your own life in order to gain information. You've given up."

"That _information_ I'm trying to gain would let me fight Kira so I could _go back_ to L!" I snapped, anger adding a painful bite to each word. "How the hell does that constitute giving up?"

"I have already told you, Light Yagami, that if you fight, you will be killed. Therefore, seeking out said information is just another one of your attempts to self destruct."

"N-no!" I insisted, but his words shook me deeply. "I…I'm not trying to self destruct; I'm trying to get back to L!"

He eyed me coldly. "If you want to go back to L, then stay put."

"I can't!" I blurted out.

"I don't think you understand. Shall I spell it out for you?" In a heartbeat he was inches from me, his harsh, yellowish eyes glaring into mine. "You are currently residing in the only area in your entire mind that is safe from the red sea, which will _kill_ you if you stay in it for too long. And since you've lost your last inch of silver, you have no weapon, no way to fight back. I could tell you how to regain said silver and begin to fight, but I won't because if I do, then you'll leave this grotto in order to begin said fight—which, as we've went over _again and again,_ will _kill_ you. And if you die, then L will believe that you self destructed, and consequently, that you gave up on finding a way to get rid of Kira. Therefore, as I have told you countless times, the best thing for you to do is _stay put._ "

"But how will I win?" I whispered. "How will I get back to L, if all I can do is sit here?"

The shinigami drew back slowly, his gaze softening considerably. "You will wait."

"That's not good enough!" I insisted, and though I was attempting to convey anger, my voice sounded desperate and afraid. "Can I at least see what's going on outside my own head? While I was in the water I could see through Kira's eyes, so can you at least tell me how to do that?"

"Concentrate."

" _Concentrate?_ " I echoed. "Could you be any more vague?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you can't figure it out, then I don't think you're fit for the title of genius. Just _concentrate,_ and you will be able to see, just as Kira did while you were still in control."

"And will Kira know when I am watching him? What is he feeling right now, as we sit here talking? Can he tell that I've awoken?"

The child shinigami paused for a long moment before speaking once more. "Kira will not know when you are watching, just as you did not know when _he_ was watching. And likewise, so long as you do not deliberately attempt to speak to him, he will not be able to hear your thoughts. As for whether or not he knows that you have awoken…so long as you do not attempt to fight him with any hair-brained scheme you might dream up, I do not think he will know that you've escaped the red sea. But again, I could be wrong. As I said quite some time ago, this has never happened to anyone before. You're the first, the control group. We'll just have to see what happens."

I opened my mouth to demand more details, but before I could, the child shinigami was back in front of me, one hand reaching out to clasp to my shoulder comfortingly.

"Take heart, Light Yagami," he murmured. "It's not over just yet; my perfect world is still a ways off. Nothing is set in stone."

"Yes," I rasped, "But how am I supposed to know what your perfect world is like? How am I to know that I'll be a part of it, and that L will be with me?"

His eyes glimmered with pity. "You cannot know."

I lowered my head, feeling heat pooling behind my eyes. No…I would not cry. I wouldn't cry! But despite my self-disciplining thoughts, my eyes were beginning to brim with tears. God…when had I become so unstable?

The child shinigami, no doubt noticing my tears, sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, but I cannot stay. If you have no more questions, then I must return to my realm. There is someone else that I have to speak with."

I forced myself to nod numbly, but not even my best efforts could convince my lips to part in the beginnings of speech.

The shinigami was moving away, nearing the exit to the cave. It didn't take more than two or three steps before he reached the water's edge. But then he paused, one foot half in the water, and shot me a sideways glance. For a moment he seemed conflicted about something—but then he seemed to steel himself, and he spoke.

"One last thing. You should know—help is coming."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"It may not be today, or tomorrow, or even next or next month—it might not even work, and you could quite possibly die without ever seeing L again. But help _is_ coming. _L_ is coming."

I couldn't describe the flood of conflicted hope the rushed through me in that moment. I was so stunned, so conflicted, that when I tried to ask the shinigami for more details, all that escaped me were various and completely jumbled sounds and noises.

The shinigami was smirking, as if he knew something I didn't—and he _did_ know something I didn't. Actually, he knew a _lot_ of things. "Just stay here until then," he said softly, knowingly. "And then, perhaps, something will go right for you. Or…maybe it won't. Who knows?" He cackled.

And then, without another word, he turned for the water and leapt straight into it, leaving me to stare helplessly after him in the grotto that served as my prison.

†††

And so it was that L's revelation led him to stand in the center of a small, dimly lit room in the apartment that currently housed Japan's top model. Misa Amane's home, completely decked out in gothic dolls and paintings, drip candles spread out on holders all around the room, the dark gray walls burdened with posters and band merchandise from America.

Admittedly, meeting with her hadn't been an easy task. He'd had to dance around his successors, the task force, and Watari—for reasons he didn't quite understand, he hadn't felt inclined to tell them where he was really going. Instead, he'd told them that he was just going up to the roof for a few hours to clear his head. It was believable enough, and no one questioned him, especially not after he gave them his best doe-eyed stare and told them in his softest tone that he missed Light, and needed some time to himself. After he'd convinced the successors, it had been a simple matter of climbing down the fire escape to the street below and heading off in the direction of Misa's apartment. He knew he wouldn't have more than a few hours before his successors suspected that he wasn't on the roof like he said he was. If he hadn't altered the security cameras before he left, then Watari would most likely have already figured out his little ruse.

But…the one thing that L didn't understand…

Why had he felt the need to lie in the first place? He was working with his successors and the task force, so why had he lied? Why hadn't he walked up to them and said, _hey, I know a way we can confirm that burning the notebook will work—and what's more, I think I can find out Kira's location. So, care to accompany me?_

That would have been the right thing to do. But for some reason, L hadn't done the right thing. Something deep, deep within him had urged him to go alone—and L's gut had never been wrong before, so he went with it. He'd snuck out to go see Misa like some prepubescent child snuck out to see a forbidden girlfriend, without informing anyone of what he intended to do. He shuddered at the comparison, wondering morbidly how he was going to explain his actions to his successors.

But he'd gotten off topic—he'd been recalling his journey to Misa's apartment. The streets had been relatively deserted, and the only light came from the dim glow of streetlights. It had taken a mere ten minutes to reach Misa's residence. She'd moved relatively close to headquarters so she'd be able to see Light more often.

 _Hah…_ L thought bitterly. _Look how well that worked out._

When he'd reached Misa's apartment, he'd had to ring the doorbell a grand total of eight times before he heard the model stirring. After ringing it four times more, she'd finally answered the door, eyes puffy with exhaustion, hair scraggly, makeup completely smudged, as if she'd fallen into bed without taking it off and rubbed her face in the pillows.

"Ryuzaki…" she'd grumbled, rubbing at her eyes blearily. "What're you doin' here?" Her speech was slightly slurred—and L didn't blame her. He had, after all, arrived on her doorstep at approximately 2:45 in the morning.

"I apologize for the late hour, Miss Amane, but I must speak to you. If you would let me in…?"

She glared, but her expression was so clouded with exhaustion that it lost most of its bite. "Yeah right…" she murmured. "Let _you_ in…the guy who—" She yawned. "—The guy who acts like a total pervert around Light? You think I'll let you in in the middle of the night while I'm not even dressed?"

Ah, yes, she was indeed currently wearing only pajamas. Very, very revealing pajamas. Black, lacy, lingerie-esque pajamas.

If L had been at all attracted to her, he would have developed quite a big problem then and there.

Luckily, he was not attracted to Misa.

"Well?" Misa demanded, her voice sharpening as she woke up a bit more. "Aren't you going to say anything? Tell me why you're here?"

"I need to talk to you—"

"Yes, I already—"

"—About Light."

She froze immediately, and L knew he'd won. She couldn't resist any and all information about Light. "What about him?" she demanded.

L shook his head coyly. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's clear that you don't want me here, so I'll just find someone else to talk to." He turned around and waited for the model to inevitably call him back.

"Wait!"

There it was. L allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. "Something you want, Miss Amane?"

She shuffled her feet. "If it's about Light…fine then, you can come in. Just give me a moment to get dressed." She turned on heel and quite literally bounced back into the room, every step screaming of her bubbly, happy attitude, even though she was no doubt still quite tired. She'd disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later, eventually reemerging wearing something entirely different.

…Which led L back to where he was currently. Sitting—or rather, crouching—on Misa Amane's couch, while she sat across from him. Her legs, covered in black netting, were crossed angrily as she regarded the shaggy-haired mess of a detective standing in her living room at approximately 2:55 in the morning. Her hair was messy from sleep, but she had still pulled it up into two ponytails. She'd changed out of her pajamas just a moment ago, which resulted in her sitting on the sofa wearing a black tube-top and an embarrassingly short black skirt and netted leggings. She looked even more inappropriate than she had in her pajamas. _Like some sort of gothic fantasy…_ L thought blandly.

L glanced down at his own clothing thoughtfully. He'd never been the type for fashion—he wore what was comfortable, and whenever he found something he liked, he bought dozens of pairs of whatever said thing was. Of course, the only things he'd even remotely liked over the entirety of his life were what he was currently wearing—a white long-sleeved shirt, baggy jeans, and a pair of old, worn out tennis shoes. He owned several dozen pairs of each. He wondered briefly if it bothered Light when he wore the same thing every day…after all, he put so much effort into his appearance, and L just rolled out of bed wearing his clothes for the day…

 _Wait, what the hell am I doing? Why am I thinking about this_ now?

Misa interrupted his thoughts by clearing her throat, uncrossing and crossing her legs in the other direction as she did. "So, what are you doing here? What's wrong with Light?" Her eyes widened slightly in accusation as she leaned forward. "I hope you're not here to forbid me from seeing Light! I already see him so little, and the New Year is coming up, you know! You should let me see Light for the New Year so we can kiss at midnight! And you'd better turn away, pervert!"

She really had no creativity when it came to insults. And the mention of the New Year was really quite surprising… L had forgotten that it was coming up in all the commotion. He… he'd hoped to share a kiss with Light at midnight. Now it seemed that that might never happen.

"Well? Are you going to let me see Light or not?"

L felt his chest swell with anger. But he choked it down, telling himself that Misa couldn't possibly know just how painful her words were. "You will not be allowed to see Light," he ground out. "You know perfectly well that he doesn't love you."

Misa's lips pursed, her eyes narrowing as she crossed and uncrossed her arms repeatedly. But much to L's surprise, she didn't go into full-out insanity mode at the mention of Light not loving her. "He does too love me!" she insisted, as if she'd totally forgotten about Sayu's birthday party.

L's hand twitched towards his pocket. Ah, yes—that was the other aspect of his plan he hadn't mentioned. Under the pretense of procuring medication for a headache, he'd gone up the infirmary and snatched up a wax-sealed vial of sedative and a syringe. On his way to Misa's apartment, he'd prepared the syringe as necessary, filling it with said sedative, which should be strong enough to knock Misa out for one hour. All he had to do was leap up and inject her, but…he was struck with the childish impulse to argue with the model. Perhaps it was just to blow off steam, or to prove to a nonexistent Light that he loved him enough to fight for him. He wasn't quite sure—but whatever the reason, he was suddenly opening his mouth and snapping, " _I'm_ his boyfriend." And then he blinked, somewhat surprised with his own words.

Misa's eyes widened comically. "No you're not! Don't tell lies about my Light!"

"Like it or not, it's true," L insisted without hesitation, slightly baffled at the childish impulse flowing through him. "He said it himself!"

Misa huffed, "No he didn't! _You_ said it, but he didn't do anything that proved you right! For all I know, you were just saying that because you wanted me to leave!"

She was right, L realized begrudgingly. Light hadn't done anything to confirm his statement—at least, not until they were back up in his room, and L had the younger male pinned firmly to the bed. "It's still true!" he snapped over the racket his thoughts were creating.

"Is not!"

"Is so!"

"Prove it!"

"I _can't_ prove it, you imbecile!"

"Then it's not true!"

"It is most certainly true!"

"Is not!"

"Is so!"

…And it was at that point that L realized he was acting like a kindergartener fighting with another child over a toy. Oh, but it was such an attractive toy…

 _No!_ L disciplined himself firmly. _Stop this at once! You are not five, so stop acting like it and get on with your mission! You don't have that much time, and you've already wasted a grand total of eleven minutes on this airhead! Light doesn't love her, he loves_ you, _so get over it and stop fighting with Misa!_

"…can't believe you, Ryuzaki!" Misa was declaring when L finally turned his attention back on the conversation. "You've done enough to Light and me! We can't even see each other anymore, all because you're such a pervert that you want to keep him to yourself!"

L stared flatly at her. And in that moment, he realized just how stupid she was, and just how stupid he was being. He chuckled darkly, thinking for a moment that perhaps he wasn't so much different from Misa—he just suppressed all that idiocy that she so blatantly displayed.

"Hey! Ryuzaki! Are you even listening to me?"

L got to his feet immediately, fingers running over the slight bump in the pocket of his jeans where the syringe was waiting. He began to step towards Misa, and then thought better of it—if Rem was really so protective of Misa, and if she was really here watching over her, then she'd kill him without a second thought if she thought he was going to harm the model.

"Ryuzaki, what are you doing?" Misa demanded. "Stop spacing out, it's creepy!"

L raised his voice, hoping with all his heart that Rem was watching over Misa. "Shinigami Rem, do not be alarmed. I am not going to harm her."

"What? What are you saying?" The model's features scrunched up in a cute expression of confusion—at least, it _would_ have been cute if not for the fact that L was only attracted to one person, and it was certainly not Misa Amane.

Misa opened her mouth to torture L's ears further, but by that time L had already leapt over the coffee table with surprising agility and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head to one side and sticking the needle none-too-gently into the model's paper-white flesh. He depressed the plunger with practiced ease, then yanked the thing out of Misa's neck and stuffed it back in his pocket. He'd dispose of it once he got back to headquarters.

The instant the needle pierced her flesh, Misa squealed indignantly—but by the time she thought of fighting, the drug had already done its job. She collapsed sideways onto the sofa, arms and legs splayed out awkwardly. Hmm…he hadn't been killed, so either Rem had heard his assurance that he wouldn't hurt Misa, or she wasn't here.

L craned his head, staring up at the ceiling. Well, then—it appeared that it was necessary for him to call to her. "Rem, I must speak with you. Please make contact."

For a long, excruciating moment, nothing happened. The room was still save for Misa's shallow breaths. But then, just as L was becoming disheartened, he felt a slight brush at his left arm, and heard a strangely deep but distinctly female voice.

"I am here."

L felt relief, sharp and sweet, course through his entire being. This was it. This was Kira's fatal mistake, the one that had the potential to destroy him. Leaving Rem here with Misa… it was laughable.

"Thank you for appearing to me, shinigami," L said, bowing his head in what he hoped was a gesture of respect. "I have much to ask you, if you will allow it."

She eyed him hesitantly. Then her lips twisted in what was most likely supposed to be a smile. "So you're the guest I was warned about. I have no choice—I will answer any question you like."

More relief. L felt like he was drowning in it. "Thank you." He leaned in slightly, curiosity taking him over. "I'm sure Light explained what was happening within his mind."

"He told me that he was battling against Kira for dominance."

"That is correct. Kira has won, as you know, which means Light has been pushed back. It is highly unlikely that he will be able to regain control without aid, so the successors and I have devised a plan. We believe that burning the Death Note will relieve Light of his second personality. Can you confirm that this will work?"

She frowned, clearly deep in thought. "Logically, it seems that it will work. But I'm not certain. And besides, I know Kira quite well. He will never allow you to get close enough to destroy the notebook—if you get within a mile of him, he'll kill you without hesitation."

L wasn't so sure about that—Kira wanted to play his game out to its conclusion, after all, so killing L prematurely wouldn't be favorable. But if he really thought that L was about to kill him, then he might be driven to extremes. Rem had a point—getting close to the Death Note would be tricky. But it wasn't anything he hadn't known already. "I'll have to find a way," L murmured. "If I can't get close enough to the notebook…then can you destroy it for me?"

Rem immediately shook her head. "No, I'm afraid that I cannot. I have been ordered to tell you anything you want to know—but I have also been ordered not to interfere. Not to mention that destroying a human's Death Note goes completely against shinigami law."

L gritted his teeth, mind whirring at top speed. He was at least sixty percent certain that he could find a way to get to the Death Note without Kira killing him in the process—but that left a forty percent margin for error, and while L had faced much worse odds and come away unscathed, gambling with his life and gambling with Light's life were two very different things. He would take the risk, certainly, if it was the only way—but if there was another way with a higher probability of succeeding… "In that case, would there happen to be a way to separate them without burning the Death Note?"

Rem paused, conflict raging behind her stormy eyes. "I do not know," she said at last. "There is only one shinigami who could answer that question, and he is not one that you can just waltz in and ask."

"Who is it?"

Her expression twisted uneasily, and L knew inherently that by telling him, she would be breaking a part of her so-called shinigami code of law. It was unfortunate…L had hoped to get some information out of her.

"The Shinigami King."

L blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected her to tell him. "Pardon?"

"The Shinigami King. The one who rules us all. He is the only shinigami with the ability to kill other gods of death. The only one that knows everything there is to know about our kind. And with that knowledge he has gained power far beyond that of a normal god of death. If there is a way to separate Light and Kira that is more effective than burning the notebook, he will know what it is."

"Then I must go to speak with him." _Even if there isn't another way to separate Light from Kira, this so-called king should still have a little more information that I'll find useful._

Rem's eyes widened. "You cannot _go_ to speak with the King. Humans cannot enter the shinigami realm. However, _he_ can come to _you._ If he wishes, the King can appear to mortals and speak with them."

"Then call him at once so I can speak with him!"

"It is impossible for me to call the Shinigami King. He isn't someone that you summon like some sort of dog—if he wishes to speak to you, then he will come to this realm in order to do so."

"But I must speak to him; he must have more information that will increase my odds of saving Light!" L insisted. As usual, he was starved for information—and this Shinigami King sounded as if he had all the answers.

Rem stared at him pityingly. "I know that you love that human, and want desperately to save him," she said, "but I do not have the ability to take you to the shinigami realm, nor do I have the ability to call the King. I am truly sorry, but the only way you can possibly free Light is by burning the notebook, or having him relinquish possession some other way. Or, if you so wish…" She held up her Death Note in one hand, a pen in the other. "You could kill him. I have been forbidden to lay a hand on him, but _you…_ you have no such stipulation. If you wanted to end this now, I could allow you to write his name in my Death Note."

It was the logical thing to do. But if L could just get to the notebook, then all this could be avoided—or, if he found the Shinigami King, there could be another, easier way. He could have his Light back without any bloodshed. "No, shinigami," he said softly. "I do not want to kill him. I want to save him by any means necessary."

Her eyes narrowed. "You are aware, of course, that every moment he remains alive is another moment that he has the opportunity to slaughter more and more innocent people. And every moment he breathes means another moment that Light Yagami is undoubtedly in agonizing pain."

L winced at the thought. Yes… he knew full well that if it was at all possible, Light would be fighting Kira at every turn in an attempt to get back to him. And if he was fighting, then Kira would be fighting back…and that meant that Light must be in pain, even as he stood there speaking to Rem. "Rem," he said at last, after a long moment of thought. "Did you know that I have never done anything selfish in my entire life? Not even once."

The shinigami raised a brow at him, clearly confused.

"I have never done anything strictly for myself. I hide my face and identity, yes, for my own protection. But I only do so because I knew that my death would mean a sudden rise in criminal activity. I used FBI agents to investigate the original task force not because I feared one of them would betray me, but because I was concerned that they would be killed if they didn't put all they had into the investigation, and I needed a way to test them." He gazed up at Rem, hands shoved into his pockets. "I have never been anything but selfless. Never. That is… until these past few months. I have gone against everything that I am. I allowed a criminal to walk free when I should killed him. I fell in love with the number one suspect in a serial murder case. I forced Light to keep living only because I wanted him all for myself. I didn't want to wait to see him again until I died and we found ourselves in whatever heaven or hell this world has to offer. Yes—I have been undeniably, unfathomably, _selfish._ And now I am going to be selfish once more." He stepped forward until he had to crane his neck significantly to see the shinigami towering over him. "I am aware that by doing this I am allowing the deaths of dozens, if not hundreds of innocent people. I am aware that I will cause Light unbearable pain. But even so, I will not allow him to die just yet. Please, shinigami Rem, stay your hand. Do not ask me to kill him."

The shinigami paused for a long moment, gazing down curiously at the raven-haired detective. Then she lowered her pen. Returned the Death Note to wherever she kept it when it was not in hand. "What will you do, Ryuzaki?"

L felt a spike of gratitude that she was still using his pseudonym instead of his real name, which she no doubt could see. "I don't really have a definite plan as of right now. The only thing I can think of is to speak to the Shinigami King, but you've already made it perfectly clear that that's not possible, so… I'll have to figure out a way to get my hands on that notebook so I can burn it."

"Then at least allow me to give you a piece of information," Rem offered. "Kira has sent Beyond Birthday to England."

L felt something his chest twist violently. "Yes, I… I know."

"I have not been able to determine what Beyond has been sent to do while in England, but he is no doubt there."

"England is where I grew up for five years," L explained softly. "I went to a very special school of sorts, and back then Beyond was my friend. Or rather, _B_ was my friend."

Rem's eyes lit up with understanding. "You believe that Beyond has been sent to kill the students of that school."

"I do."

"And you're doing nothing? Do you not care for the students?"

"The orphans," L corrected, "are my children. I love them dearly, but it is too late for me to do anything. The children are already doomed, for their names have long since been written in the Death Note by Beyond. Two of my investigators have been sent to the scene, but they won't be able to do anything. They'll be called back in a few days. In any case, it is more important that all my forces remain here in order to put an end to Kira. If we can accomplish this, then the deaths of my children will not be in vain."

"You would sacrifice the lives of dozens of children in order to save one boy?" Rem wondered aloud. "You are foolish, Ryuzaki, but undoubtedly loyal to Light Yagami."

"I am loyal to him to a fault," L said softly. "It's going to get me killed one day."

Rem's gaze flickered up to just above L's head. Her expression twisted slightly. "Yes," she agreed, eyes never leaving that space. "It seems that it will."

L closed his eyes briefly. So it was true, then. Rem's reaction… No doubt his death was close. He wondered morbidly if lifespans were fluid—if he changed the path he currently walked; if he reached out and wrote the name of his lover in Rem's Death Note, would his lifespan be altered? Would he have longer to live? Would he have _less_ time? If it was true that lifespans could be changed, then he could still win. He could still make a move that would alter his lifespan and allow him to save Light. The concept made L wonder how much time Kira had left. How much time _Light_ had.

"Is there anything else?" Rem asked.

"Yes," L said immediately, remembering the main reason he'd come to Rem in the first place. "If at all possible, I would like to know where Kira is residing so I can go to him and destroy his Death Note."

There was no hesitation. "Kira is currently residing in the Teito Hotel in room 1313," Rem said. "Beyond is no longer there, of course, but Kira has not moved from that place for a few days shy of two weeks."

L was sure his jaw was on the ground. Rem was just… telling him where Kira was? After all this time trying to find him? He'd hoped, of course that this would be the case, but…was it really going to be that simple? "T-thank you, Rem!" he gasped out. "Are… are you sure that's where he is?"

"I am certain," the shinigami responded. "If it changes I will use Misa's computer to contact you."

"So you are to by my spy?" L asked, the idea too good to be true.

"It appears that I am." Rem produced her Death Note and opened it. "One more thing." She tore out a page and folded it until it was small enough to fit in L's palm. "I want you to take this with you. If you change your mind, then do not hesitate to use this to kill Light Yagami and Beyond Birthday. As much as it will hurt Misa to see her love dead, it appears to have become necessary. Kira will never love Misa, and he will never return to her. Misa will be hurt whether that murderer lives or dies, and I think it is better for him to die."

L chuckled humorlessly. "You're certainly not the only one who thinks that," he said softly. He slipped the folded page of the Death Note into his pocket, but he knew he would never use it. He had promised Light, in as many words, that he would never kill anyone with the notebook. It was the only thing Light had ever made him promise, and L didn't intend to break such a vow.

He gazed up at the pale shinigami and said honestly, "You have my sincerest thanks, Rem. I believe that I may have a chance, now that I've heard what you had to say."

Rem dipped her head in acknowledgement. "There is no need to thank me—I was simply following orders."

"Following orders?" L echoed curiously.

"Yes. I was ordered to tell you what you wished to know—otherwise, several of the topics we have discussed would have been entirely against shinigami law. For example, it is written in the Death Note that a shinigami cannot reveal the location of other Death Note users in the human world. But seeing as I was explicitly ordered to break the rules for your sake, I saw no problem with telling you what you wished to know."

"And…who ordered you to do such a thing?"

"Just another shinigami," Rem murmured evasively. A sudden sound from the couch drew her attention, and when L followed her gaze, he saw that Misa was beginning to shift. The sedative L had hit her with had been weak, and she was already waking up.

"You should leave before Misa wakes," Rem said pointedly. "She will not be happy with you once she regains consciousness."

"Oh, yes…" L glanced down at the model. She let out a low groan and shifted slightly. L was acutely aware that Misa wasn't the only danger here—if he waited much longer, there was a high probability that Watari or the successors would discover his absence. "You are correct, of course. I must go." He reached the door in a few steps and opened it.

"I am sorry about not being able to send you to the shinigami realm," Rem called after him.

"Don't concern yourself with such matters," L responded. "You've helped me plenty." With that, he closed the door. He took the elevator to the ground floor of the apartment complex and exited the building. It was very, very late, so there were no people or cars on the streets when he reached them. He took a moment to stand on the edge of the sidewalk, face turned towards the sky as he inhaled the crisp December air. It was nice, he thought, to stand outside in weather like this. He wasn't wearing a coat, or anything other than his regular apparel, so the chill reached right through to his bones—and he loved it. L had always loved winter, and the festive spirit that overtook people when the New Year was close. It was almost cold enough for snow. He smiled as he thought about his time in England, and the snow that used to fall their each year. It had been one of his favorite things to do, after it snowed, to run outside and roll around in the frozen flakes. Watari would always scold him afterwards for not taking a snow coat and winding up sick the next day—but he always had a smile on his face, and L knew that the scolding was half-hearted.

He began to walk, shoes scraping the ground slightly with every step. The hotel was very close to headquarters, so there was really no need for him to call a taxi unless he wanted to. It would be safer, he knew, to ride in a car. But he wanted to be outside, if even for a few blocks of walking.

L froze suddenly.

Something… something had moved! He whirled around, searching for the swish of movement he swore he'd seen. But there was nothing, no other living being on the streets around him for as far as he could see—and no cars.

Something moved again.

It was a flash of movement that swished by him, making his hair ruffle in the breeze it created. _What the hell?_ L slowly backed up until his back was pressed against the side of a building. This way, he knew, no one could approach him from the back. One hand dipped his belt, reappearing a moment later with a knife he'd snatched from the kitchen at headquarters. The successors had very firmly taken away his gun privileges due to their supposed concern that he would use it to off himself or commit some other unspeakable act due to his shaky mental state, and so the best he could do in terms of protection was a rather large kitchen knife. L held said knife out in front of him with both hands, moving it back and forth as if he were staring down the barrel of a gun. Was he just being paranoid? Had there really been nothing there? But no, that couldn't be it! For a moment L's mind went to images of Kira or Beyond swooping in and murdering him where he stood. But no, Kira was in the Teito Hotel, and Beyond was in England! Rem had sworn that neither were anywhere near him, so there was no reason that they would be here unless… unless…

Had Rem betrayed him? Had she only met with him under orders from Kira, to lull him into a false sense of security so that Kira could kill him? Was it a lie that some other shinigami had ordered her to converse with L?

Another flash of movement. This time he saw the shape briefly, and he made a startling discovery.

It… it wasn't _human._

A shinigami, then? Was it Ryuk, the shinigami attached to Beyond?

And then the movement flashed again, and the next moment a tiny figure was standing several feet away, completely engulfed in the shadows that ran between streetlights.

"Stop right there!" L demanded furiously. "Who are you? Why are you sneaking around at night?"

The tiny figure moved a few steps forward, and a moment later his form was bathed in light from the streetlight that rested nearly ten feet from L's position. The figure raised his head and stared up at L calmly, and the detective made a startling discovery.

It…it was a child. A very young child, perhaps seven or eight. His hair was startlingly black, and his eyes…his eyes were yellowish red, like Beyond's. He wore a simple white t-shirt and bright red shorts, but he had no shoes. The child cocked his head curiously, seemingly unfazed at the sight of a knife pointed directly at him.

"Identify yourself!" L snapped, slipping into police officer mode.

The child took a few steps forward. "I'm sorry, sir, I appear to be lost. I don't suppose you could help me figure out where I am? I have no experience with the streets around here, you see—I just moved here with my family."

L frowned suspiciously. Was he really unconcerned with a stranger threatening him with a knife? "Your identification," he reminded the child harshly.

"Yes, yes…" he trailed off, and L realized that he'd taken a few more steps forward when he wasn't looking. "Say, do you know how to get to the Teito Hotel from here?"

L, taken aback, spluttered out, "Why do you need to go there?"

"Oh…there's just an acquaintance I'd like to visit." The child smirked—that expression was far too knowing for a child of his age. "Perhaps you know him—red eyes, auburn hair, nasty, homicidal tendencies?"

L's blood ran cold.

"No? You don't know him? Let's see…perhaps I need to describe him better…"

"Why are you looking for him?" L blurted out.

The child moved one step closer. "Oh, you know…"

"No, I don't know." Step. Step. L had a feeling that he should be stopping this child somehow, but he felt as if he were suddenly entranced—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move from under that piercing gaze. "Tell me," he demanded, trying not to sound as afraid as he was. Something about this child…he _radiated_ power.

"You want to know why I'm looking for Kira?"

L's eyes widened at the sound of the murderer's name. "Y-yes…"

"Well, then, that's easy. I'm not."

L could have choked. "What?"

"Oh, it was just a way to get you to talk to me, a way to distract you so I could get close. You wouldn't just let me walk up to you if you didn't think I knew something about Kira. It was just a not-so-elaborate ruse."

And it had worked. L realized with a start that the child was standing directly in front of him; the tip of the knife was pressing directly into his chest, but he didn't show even the smallest sign of distress. "Then how do you know about Kira?" L asked shakily. "How do you know—?"

"Now, now," the child smirked. "Patience is a virtue. Isn't that right…Lawliet?"

 _Oh god…_ L immediately sensed danger, and thrust the knife forward as hard as he could without thinking. But before he managed to move a fraction of an inch, the knife was suddenly knocked away from him, and one of the child's tiny hands shot out to slam palm-first against L's forehead. L immediately tried to struggle, but the child pressed him harshly back against the building with inhuman strength. He was saying something, L thought, but he was too panicked to understand him. Or perhaps he just wasn't speaking English, or Japanese, or one of the other eleven languages L was proficient in. He opened his mouth, intending to call for some sort of aid—

But before he could, his lips sealed themselves shut. His eyes followed, forcing him to remain sightless as the child continued his murmurings. A sudden tugging sensation began at the nape of his neck, like a large fishing hook had snagged him and was pulling him in for slaughter.

His stomach lurched. The world blurred around him. The ground was suddenly bending around his feet, the building warping and swirling all around him. His limbs flopped limply at his sides, contorting and twisting as if he had gone boneless. He felt a strange tingling spread through his entire body, and knew that if he opened his eyes he would see that the rest of his body had gone into that odd boneless state that his extremities had reverted to.

There was a sudden swish of freezing air, pushing L's hair away from his face. The child's hand had left him. There was weightlessness. Then there was the sensation of falling.

Then a thud as he hit the ground, the impact shaking him to the bone.

Then pain.

Then nothing.

 **Wow, I think this may be the last chapter I have to edit heavily! I know I've said that I do a lot of editing, but just to explain how much I've changed the story before posting: in the original story, the child shinigami and the red sea were mentioned a grand total of zero times. That's right folks, every time you see a mention of either of those things (and several other things such as L's past with Beyond,** _ **all**_ **dream sequences, and conversations with Misa), know that they are only there because I edited them in the day before posting. That's** _ **a lot**_ **of work, and I do it three times a week, on top of summer reading/essays and preparations for school!**

 **…So if you would reward me for all that work, I wouldn't mind a few reviews ;)**

 **(Psst...do you know what series my chapter names are coming from?)**


	19. The Blazing Star

**Welcome to chapter nineteen! This chapter was hell to edit. It kicked my ass, thus the reason for the late posting. Seriously—it** _ **kicked my ass.**_ **This chapter made me its bitch.**

 **But that's beside the point. Thank you so much if you left a review on the last chapter (I feel a little bad about bitching at everyone last chapter due to review count, so I'm sorry. I started this with the mindset that I wasn't going to worry over how many reviews I got, and I totally lost sight of that along the way). And to Akai: nah, the child shinigami isn't in love with Light. Everything he's doing is for his own benefit ;)**

 **Chapter 19: The Blazing Star**

When L regained consciousness, the first thing he saw was blue. It was bright and starting in terms of colors he could have woken up to, the brilliant sheen of it filling every bit of his vision. At first he likened it to the sky, but there were no clouds, and no matter where he directed his eyes, the sun seemed to elude him. So what was it, then, just a blue wall? No, that wasn't it, L was certain that he was lying on his back, and therefore could not possibly be observing a wall. L wiggled his fingers slowly, testing them to see if they were broken. Finding no objection from his fingers, he moved his test to first his right arm, then his left, then on to his legs an the rest of his body. He shielded his eyes from the bright glare of the blue _thing_ above him, then rubbed his eyes aggressively to make sure he was really awake.

He was.

L slowly sat up and looked around. What he saw… made no sense. He was lying in a huge patch of vividly green grass, the waves of green rolling up to a wing of buildings that seemed to be arranged in a semi-circle. Bright splotches of color stained the grass wherever a flower grew in between the blades, the size and sheen of their petals demanding attention. The flowers came in ever color… blue, purple, yellow, red… they were beautiful. And then there were trees. There were massive, towering endlessly into the sky. They cast light shadows over the grass wherever they stood, dappling the blades of green with beautiful nets of shade. L pushed himself to his feet with practiced grace, his hair ruffling slightly in the warm breeze that seemed to constantly flow through the clearing.

 _I'm dreaming,_ L thought. _That's it, I'm dreaming!_ He took a few steps forward, then turned suddenly to see what was behind him, to see if the beautiful field ringed with buildings went on forever. _Oh…_ he thought, realizing that what he had thought to be a semi-circle of buildings was actually a complete circle. The buildings, made with bright red bricks and white trim, surrounded the whole field. As he walked L saw that the grass was broken up in certain places by white stone paths that led to the doors of the buildings. He mindlessly stepped onto the closest path and followed it.

He looked ahead to locate the end of the path. There, several feet ahead of him, the path ended—and at the end of that path was another structure. It was a fountain, made entirely of white marble. Crystal clear water spouted from the top of the structure, trickling calmly down the sides and falling to the rather large basin below, which stretched in a circle around the fountain. The beautiful silence of the clearing was broken as L saw the water, the sound of it reaching him as if the sight alone had reawakened his hearing.

All of this was insane. L approached the fountain and dipped his fingers in it, just to see if he could wake himself up. The water was pleasantly cool, but it did nothing to awaken him. "Perhaps this is a form of lucid dreaming?" L muttered. "If that is true then I should be able to change this dream at will." He concentrated for a moment, just to see if he could change the scene to something else, or make Light appear in front of him. But nothing happened. "Not a lucid dream, then," he said. "Just a strange one." He wondered if the shinigami who attacked him had killed him, and if this was heaven. But no, he certainly wouldn't be going to heaven when he died. But this didn't look like hell…

L sighed. If he was dead, he was going to be _very_ disappointed.

"Are you okay?"

L froze at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He turned slowly, his back now facing the fountain, and took in the appearance of the person standing behind him.

It was a child.

A human child.

The same human child that had approached L on the streets.

But now…he looked different.

He was still young—younger than L, younger than Matt, even younger than Sayu. He looked seven or eight at the most, barely coming up to L's stomach. His hair was inky black and shaggy, reaching an inch below his shoulders. His eyes were a brilliant orange, his pale flesh covered in a light dusting of freckles. The only odd thing about him—and, in fact, the only thing that had changed—was his clothing. Instead of normal children's clothing, he was wearing a tattered looking cloak that hung strangely low on his shoulders. It covered any sign of pants and shoes, but the beginnings of a white undershirt were visible beneath the robe, and a necklace hung around his neck. The necklace, upon closer inspection, seemed to be made of bone fragments. And the circlet resting atop his head, which couldn't quite be called a crown, was also made of the same bone fragments, though it had deep brown thorns woven throughout in addition to the bone.

L gaped at the child. He was beginning to doubt his theory that this was just a dream.

"Are you okay?" the child repeated, stepping closer. L immediately retreated, the backs of his legs brushing the lip of the fountain's basin. The water seemed louder now. Or perhaps that was just the rush of blood in his ears. "You don't need to be afraid," the child said softly. "You are safe here."

"How do I know?" L rasped, his voice weak and pathetic.

The boy looked surprised, as if it were unfathomable for anyone to doubt his word. "I suppose you don't. You'll just have to trust me."

"Trust?" The thought was laughable. There was only one person L truly trusted in full, and it wasn't this child.

"Yes, trust. Trust me, L Lawliet."

L froze, throat constricting until he could barely breathe. Who… who was this boy, calling out his real name so carelessly? How could he know that name, those two awful words that had the power to kill?

"You don't have to worry, Lawliet. No one here will attempt to kill you, and your name will never leave my lips to anyone but you."

"How?" he demanded, voice weaker than it should have been. "How do you know?"

Oh, you haven't figured it out yet?" The boy stepped back, and suddenly his form flickered. Just for a heartbeat, he transformed from a small child to a massive, terrifying beast, three times taller than any shinigami L had ever seen. But then the moment had passed, and the child was back.

"You… you're a shinigami!" L choked out. "You're the one that attacked me!"

The shinigami smiled pityingly, an expression that didn't fit the face of a young child. "I did not attack you," he said. "I heard your conversation with Rem, Lawliet. I heard you ask her to put you in contact with the Shinigami King. And while she may not have the power to take a human to the shinigami realm, I do. So I brought you here."

Understanding flashed through L's mind. This boy… this shinigami in the form of a child… "No…" he whispered, completely dumbfounded. "You're…?"

"Yes," the child responded. He took a step back, squaring his shoulders to L and puffing out his chest. He suddenly looked much, much older than he really was. "I am the Shinigami King. And _you_ are in the shinigami realm. More specifically, you are in my palace."

For just a moment, L felt stunned. This was the _Shinigami King._ This was the being that controlled all other shinigami, the being that ruled over all others. "I thought the shinigami realm would be more… drab," L admitted shakily, attempting to familiarize himself with the concept that he was speaking to the God of gods. "Less sunshine and flowers, more death and despair."

"There is plenty of that," the king chuckled. "But as long as you are in my palace you will see only what you want to see. You want to be at peace, so your mind pulled this place out of your subconscious. I'd imagine that this place brings you great joy."

That…was painfully true. L found his eyes raking over the landscape once more, taking it in with new meaning. So, this was the Wammy's House from his memories… He noted with biter amusement that he was standing in what would have been the west wing of the building—the farthest away he could possibly get from the clearing Beyond had assaulted him in and the room where A had been murdered. "It's like the Mirror of Erised," L figured, referencing one of the many books he'd read during his time in England. "It shows you your most deeply hidden desires." He looked down at the King. "If that's the case, then where is Light? If this is my fantasy, then where is he?"

That earned him a sad smile. "This palace cannot replicate people. It is the one thing that it cannot do. It is a palace of loneliness."

How awful… L flinched at the thought of living in his ultimate paradise without the one person he truly loved. "What do you see?"

The King shrugged. "I see my palace. I see my throne, the lanterns hanging from the walls, the black tiles on the floor. I see the windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. And through those windows I see the shinigami realm in all its glory." The Shinigami King's eyes glazed over. "I see the barren wasteland, the crags of rock covering the ground, the crumbling mountains… I see shinigami endlessly locked in their gambling."

"It sounds terrible."

"It is." The glazed look left the King's eyes as he looked back up at L. "But I didn't bring you here to discuss the harsh reality of the shinigami realm. I brought you here because I believe you have some questions for me."

"You were watching." It wasn't a question. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Not you specifically," the King corrected. "I have been watching the situation in your realm ever since Ryuk dropped his second notebook in the human world. I've seen everything that's happened since then."

"So you know about the rather unfortunate situation I've landed myself in."

"Yes. I know everything, Lawliet."

That name again. L shuddered. "Then you already know what I'm going to ask."

"I do."

"Then tell me the answer." L's eyes gleamed with determination. "Is there a way? Can I do it?"

The King sighed and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the fountain. L wondered briefly what the fountain looked like to him. "I want to help you, Lawliet," he whispered. "But I cannot. _I_ cannot separate Light and Kira."

L's heart sank. So that was it, then.

"But there is another solution."

"Burning the Death Note, I know," L muttered somberly. "But it's going to be hard to get close enough to him to do that."

"Yes," the King agreed, "it will be quite hard. That is, unless you have the right connections. And luckily for you, you came into contact with me." He grinned toothily. "It's true that _I_ can't be the one to separate Light and Kira. But you… _you_ could do it—and I have another way."

Hope. It was strong, overpowering, and L loved it. "What is it? What else can I do?"

The Shinigami King offered him a small, knowing smile. "Tell me, Lawliet, what happens when someone gives up possession of the Death Note?"

L frowned, immediately responding, "They lose their memories." _That,_ at least, he was certain about.

"And how do you think that happens? What about losing the Death Note makes the person's memories flee?"

L thought back, trying to remember if Light had ever said anything about the mechanics of memory loss via Death Note. But he hadn't said anything, not even a word in passing—and so he most likely didn't know. "Well…" L trailed off, deep in thought. "If I had to guess, I'd say that it has something to do with the shinigami."

"Yes, yes!" the Shinigami King exclaimed happily, sounding every bit the child he was disguised as. "That's right! The shinigami who gives their notebook to a human is the one who takes away their memories once said human relinquishes possession!"

"And what does that have to do with the solution to my problem?" L asked hesitantly.

"Well, that's simple! You see, every shinigami is different from their brethren. They're like snowflakes, you could say—no two are the same. And consequently, their _powers_ all vary just a little bit."

L caught on immediately. "They're all different," he realized softly. "Each shinigami removes a human's memories a different way, is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yep!" the Shinigami King chirped. "We all have a different way of doing things! Some shinigami seal their hands over the human's eyes, others channel their power through the human's chest—some just kick 'em really hard!"

The King cackled, and L found himself marveling at his behavior. He'd always assumed that if there was a Shinigami King, he would be calm and reserved, and quite frightening. But this being…he was childish. He was acting like an idiot.

"Nah, that last one isn't true," the King conceded, still chuckling. "But that's beside the point." He leaned closer suddenly, and his gaze darkened, and all signs of his joking attitude immediately vanished. "It's true that most shinigami focus on the more biological side of things, using their hands or eyes to remove a human's memories. But some, a rare few…are different."

"And let me guess—you're one of those few."

He nodded seriously. "Yes. And do you know what makes me different, Lawliet?"

"You're the King."

The corners of his lips turned up in a small smile. "Yes, but besides that." He didn't wait for L to take another guess. "You see, a few of the shinigami remove memories in a different way. Instead of using our own hands, eyes, or whatever else, they use an _object_. Something like a staff, or a necklace, or a article of their clothing. The instant the human gives up the Death Note, they make contact with said object, and with that contact they withdraw said human's memories."

"What difference does that make for me?" L asked, slightly confused. The Shinigami King wouldn't tell him these things without a reason, but…he couldn't' figure it out. What did the King have to gain from this?

The Shinigami King raised a hand to his head, fingers wrapping around the thorny crown he wore. The attached bone fragments dangled and swayed as he lowered the thing slowly, bringing it down. He held it for a moment, eyes raking over it. "This is it," he murmured. "This is what I use to erase the memories of humans—or at least, this is what I _would_ use if I ever let a human gain possession of my Death Note. That has never happened, however, nor will it ever. I am quite careful, you see, to keep hold of my notebook at all times."

"That's your crown?" L echoed curiously. He stared at the tiny circlet—it was so small that he probably could have used it as a slightly large bracelet. "What, you just stick that on some human's head after they give up possession?"

"Theoretically, yes."

"And how is that supposed to help me?" L demanded irritably. "I can only assume that you're telling me this because you think it will help me—but something like _that_ won't do any good. Light won't be able to give up possession of the Death Note, so you've told me nothing of interest."

"Haven't I?" The Shinigami King's expression twisted into one of horrifying excitement. "I've left something out, Lawliet. Something that most shinigami don't know. Do you want to know a _secret?"_

L took is as a rhetorical question, and didn't respond.

The King didn't seem to mind. He leaned in even closer, until he was practically whispering in L's ear. "A shinigami can remove a human's memories at any time."

L didn't understand, and he told the king so.

"Silly!" the King chastised. "I'm trying to tell you that saying the words, _I relinquish possession of the Death Note,_ doesn't do anything. It's the _shinigami_ that hears the request and takes away the human's memories, consequently forcing them to relinquish ownership."

Slowly, ever so slowly, L was beginning to suspect why the King was telling him this. But…would it work? Would it really work?

"I see you're beginning to appreciate the worth of me telling you this," the Shinigami King said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes…" L murmured, deep in thought. "But how will I exploit this little fact? You ordered Rem not to interfere, so _she_ won't take away Light's memories—" he broke off suddenly. "Wait…" he eyed the shinigami nervously. "If you're on my side, and you really want Light to come back, then why did you order Rem to stay uninvolved? Whose side are you on?"

The Shinigami King blinked, clearly surprised. "You picked up on that, huh?"

L shuffled backwards, his heels pressing firmly against the side of the fountain. He suddenly realized that if this being was not on his side, then he most likely wouldn't be leaving this place alive. The Shinigami King had more than enough power to strike him down where he stood. "Are you evil?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, much to his irritation.

The King's eyes clouded momentarily. "Light asked me the same thing. You're quite alike, you know."

"Light?" L burst out, wincing as a burst of longing tore through him. This shinigami…he'd spoken to Light? When? Where? "You've seen him?"

"Yes, I've both seen and spoken to him several times before this moment. In fact, I just finished up a little conversation with him not too long ago."

The impossibility of that statement sank in a moment later. "Oh…" L said, a wave of depression crashing over him. "You mean that you've spoken to Kira."

"No. I've spoken to Light."

"That's impossible. He's not in control, so no one can speak to him."

"Nothing is impossible for me, Lawliet, as I've already told you. I have spoken to Light, and while he may not be happy, he is still alive."

He didn't understand. He heard the words, but they didn't make any sense. No matter how many different ways he arranged them, no matter what context in which he observed them, they appeared hollow and fake, and utterly meaningless.

The Shinigami King seemed to sense his disbelief. He sighed deeply. "I won't tell you much, since you're not going to believe me. Suffice it to say that for now, Light is alive, and he misses you dearly. But you've gotten yourself sidetracked. You asked me if I was evil, no?"

L immediately made to ask for more details on Light, but before he could, the King was already speaking once again.

"I do not believe I am evil. But as I told Light, evil is in the eye of the beholder. I think the better question would be, whose side am I on? Who have I allied myself with, if anyone at all? It's a rather puzzling question—if I was on Light's side, then I would have stopped Kira long before he had the chance to wrest control, and I would never have let him be taken away by Beyond—and most importantly, I would have already removed his memories, thus expelling Kira forever. If I was on Kira's side, I wouldn't have brought you here and revealed so much, and I most certainly wouldn't have saved and protected Light as many times as I have. It's a bit of a conundrum, don't you think?" He took a few steps away, turning his back on the detective he was conversing with. He began to walk with slow, small steps, around the fountain. "The truth is, I'm not on anyone's side."

L blinked, surprised. "You're a neutral party?"

"Hmm…no."

"Then you _are_ on someone's side."

"No. Look at it this way, Lawliet—I've been given a blueprint."

Confusion. Lots and lots of confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

The shinigami had reached the other side of the fountain, his voice accented by the trickling of water. He reached out a few fingers, letting the water run over his flesh. L wondered briefly what he was seeing, and whether or not he knew what L was seeing at that moment. "I've been given a blueprint," he repeated in a murmur, flicking water from the tips of his fingers, studying the tiny flecks of liquid. "And this blueprint tells me what's supposed to happen in this world. It's my job to make sure that said blueprint is perfectly executed, and that nothing is out of place in each world's destiny."

"You…" L trailed of in order to choke back a nervous laugh. "You talk as if there's more than one world…more than one earth…"

The King shrugged. "Maybe there is. Perhaps—and this is just in theory, mind you—there are many worlds. Perhaps, each door you see etched into those red brick walls leads to a different iteration of reality, and it is my job to keep each of them in line. But that's just a theory, of course."

L narrowed his eyes. The shinigami was devious. He wondered if Light had seen through his tricks, if he knew that the King wasn't on his side. Unfortunately, there was no way to know. "So, is that why you've done the things you've done? Are you just attempting to adhere to that so-called blueprint?"

"Yes, in a way. You see, I'm just given an end result. I don't get any directions; all of my actions are my own. Everything I have done thus far has been a part of my attempt to create the final product I so desire. I have carefully planned out my route, and if all goes according to plan, then this world will become just what it needs to be. It's why, instead of taking Light's memories myself, I brought you here to discuss the removal of said memories. It's why I ordered Rem not to get involved. It's why I let Kira force Light into submission. And, of course, it's why I've been so sketchy in my movements. You couldn't figure out my motive, and with good reason. One minute I'm helping Kira, the next I'm bringing you here to speak with me. I don't exactly scream _trustworthy_ and _consistent,_ do I?" He laughed heartily, the sound echoing hollowly off the brick walls. "No, I think not. I feel for you, Lawliet, I really do—but something so superficial as emotions will not alter my plans. They may seem scrambled now, but I assure you, it will all make sense soon. It has already been decided."

L's mind whirred at a hundred miles per hour. If this was true, then this shinigami already knew how things were going to end. Or did he? He'd said that it was his job to make sure the world ended up a certain way…did that mean that if he messed up, or failed to perform his job, the world would be changed? Just how much control did he have over the beings he used as puppets? And more importantly… "Where did the blueprint come from?" L asked thoughtfully, gnawing on a thumb.

"Pardon?"

"The blueprint. You said that you didn't have a path to follow, only an end result. And it makes sense that if _you_ were the one coming up with that end result, you'd also be able to plan out a path. You wouldn't just decide on a goal and then see how things went—you'd make sure that your goal was accomplishable, and you'd plan everything out meticulously."

The Shinigami King nodded, clearly impressed. "You're right. I'm not the one who decides how the world will turn out. I'm a messenger, you might say. A messenger sent to set this world on its correct path."

"Fascinating…" L closed his teeth lightly on his thumbnail, the gesture muffling his words. "Then, can I assume that even _you_ answer to someone?"

"Everyone answers to _someone,_ Lawliet. Humans answer to each other, shinigami answer to me, angels answer to their God—everything is controlled. Nothing is coincidental."

"Then tell me, who is so powerful that they can order the King of the Shinigami around?"

The Shinigami King shrugged evasively. "Can't tell you. All you need to know is that they gave me a mission, and I intend to carry it out. Whether that mission results in your failure remains to be seen. For all you know, my little blueprint leads to a world in which you and Light live together and Kira-free—but _also_ for all you know, it'll lead to all of your deaths."

L felt a spark of anger in his chest. "Well, isn't that convenient for you?"

"Oh," the shinigami grinned, "it really is. I can do whatever I want, so long as the end result is the same."

The detective swallowed hard, thinking his next question through. "In that case…just what do you intend to do? You called me here to speak with me, yes? Was it just for the sake of information, or does this serve some greater purpose?"

"Questions, questions…" the King sighed deeply. "You're no fun when you're confused, you know that? But no matter, I suppose I have to tell you. It's what's supposed to happen next, after all." He was still holding his crown in one hand, and as he held it up so the light caught it, L realized with fascinated disgust that those bone fragments were polished so that the light flickered and danced across the surface. They almost looked like gemstones—white, glossy gemstones. "I told you, Lawliet, that this was my weapon. This is how I take away the memories of humans, be it with their permission or without. I'm sure you realize how crucial that information is for you—information revealing the fact that Light can give up possession of the notebook without really giving up possession at all. But as I stated, I can't do it. That's a part of the rules—I can manipulate people through other people, I can converse with the humans I need to use, but in the end, their actions must be their own. I cannot interfere as much as I'd like. If I could, then this would already be over. However, I am granted quite a large margin for interfering, and I intend to use it."

L spoke, and when he did, he felt his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. "So you're manipulating me."

"I am indeed. But you never know, it might end up being for your benefit! You'll just have to wait and see, Lawliet."

"Get to the point," L growled. His patience was running thin. He wasn't sure how much time was passing in the human world, but he knew that by now, the successors must be quite worried. Perhaps they'd already checked the roof, and were searching for him frantically. He'd have to find a way to get out of the shinigami realm soon unless he wanted to worry his successors even further.

"Fine, fine—I suppose I can understand your impatience." He tucked one arm behind his back, then extended the opposite one, turning his palm upwards and displaying his crown for L to see.

L stared quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"Take it."

The detective could have fainted then and there. He spluttered, nearly choking on his own saliva, and managed to choke out, "Take your crown? Are you serious?"

"If I wasn't serious, I wouldn't have offered."

L just stared, dumbfounded. "That…that's not against the rules? I can seriously just take that, and…what?"

"Remove Light's memories and kill Kira."

It was too good to be true. It was _impossible_ —but, L reminded himself, the Shinigami King had already reminded him multiple times that with him, the impossible wasn't quite that. "I'm not a shinigami," L reminded him softly. "How could I possibly use it?"

"Well, that's the other thing that I didn't tell you about shinigami who use objects to remove the memories of humans—that power is quite literally _inside_ the object. You don't need to be a shinigami to use it. If you walk on up to Light and touch him with this, it'll be over."

"It can't possibly be that easy. What's the catch?"

The Shinigami King grinned. "Clever boy. I suppose there is a bit of a catch." He was back in front of L now, having moved back around the fountain in but a few steps. "Once again, I've left a bit out. You see, I can't very well have you walking around with my crown—it's a blatant advertisement to other shinigami that I've lost hold of it, and that a frail, killable human has taken possession. That, of course, and the fact that getting close enough to slap a crown on Kira's head is completely ridiculous—you'd look like an idiot, and it would be way harder than burning the Death Note. So I think I'll make things a bit easier for you." Without waiting for L's response, the Shinigami King reached his other hand out and held it over the crown. For a long moment, nothing happened.

But then, slowly…something did.

L found himself unable to look away as the crown began to change. The bone fragments twisted, the thorns writhed, growing smaller, melding together. It looked unreal, as if he were staring at special effects in a low budget movie. It took but a few moments for the crown to melt down to a size so small that the King could close his hand over it. And that was just what he did—in a single moment the crown disappeared from sight, and a moment later the shinigami held his hand out, ready to drop something into L's hand the instant he offered it.

L eyed the King suspiciously. Was it really okay to just take the crown form him? "You never told me the catch," he vocalized nervously. "I won't make a deal with the devil until I know the price."

His words sent a twisted smile stretching across the Shinigami King's face. "Oh, Lawliet, surely you know that for a deal with the devil, the price is your soul!"

L's heart leapt into his throat. "My…my soul?"

The King laughed, one hand clutching at his stomach as he observed the stricken look on the detective's face. "Oh, my dear detective, don't look so serious! You're not _really_ making a deal with the devil, and I have no interest in your soul. What _I'm_ asking is much more simple. When the last bell rings, when you've done all you can, when this _ends—_ if you still draw breath, then I want you to collect all the Death Notes in the human world and burn them."

L's eyes widened. _Funny…I was going to do that anyway. I wonder why he wants them destroyed._ "Burn them? Really? But why?"

The king looked away. "That is something that I wish to keep to myself. Just make sure that you burn the notebooks."

"Very well, then. If that is all, then I will do as you ask." _It shouldn't be too hard…if I can erase Light's memories first, then I shouldn't have an issue with burning the notebook—after all, by that point, Beyond will presumably be captured, and Light will have no desire to stop me from destroying the object that ruined his life._

That earned him a smile. "Thank you," the King said. His hand was still extended, ready to drop whatever he held into L's hand. "Please, extend your hand. I will give you your salvation."

Shuddering at the choice of wording, L reached out his hand and held it palm up under the shinigami's. A moment later those tiny fingers curled apart, and L felt something small, cool, and metallic plop into his palm. L immediately closed his fingers over it, feeling the shape, the size, the weight. He slowly raised his closed fist to eye level and stared harshly, as if trying to see straight through his hand to the object within.

"Go on," the King urged. "Take a look."

L looked up at him uneasily. But he had no other choice—and so, choking down the butterflies attacking the lining of his stomach, L uncurled his fingers one by one, and finally laid eyes on what had once been the Shinigami King's crown.

It…it was…

A bullet? The shinigami's crown…had turned into a bullet? L pinched the thing between two fingers, holding it up to the light. It was an average sized bullet for an ordinary handgun, he noted curiously. But there was something strange about it. It was black in color, and the strange sheen made it look as if rainbows were dancing across its surface when it reflected the light in just the right way. It was clearly unearthly. "It's…" he trailed off, hardly believing what he was seeing. "It's a bullet."

The smug expression on the Shinigami King's face made L want to punch him. "Confused?"

L didn't dignify that with a response.

"I just altered the shape of my crown. I thought it would be easier for you this way. Now you won't have to get in close to use it!"

"Are you completely insane?" L asked stupidly, too stunned to care that he was insulting who was quite possibly the most powerful being on the entire planet. "Do you really expect me to believe—?"

"You _will_ believe me," the King said confidently.

"And why is that?" L demanded.

"Because you have no other choice."

L glared. "Not true! I can burn the Death Note!"

"L Lawliet, I will tell you this once and only once. The instant you locate the Death Note, and the instant you get close enough to burn it, the successors are going to kill Kira and Beyond."

"W-what?" L spluttered. No…it wasn't true! The successors were on his side, weren't they? They'd promised to help him save Light! But…L wasn't an idiot. He'd felt that inexplicable doubt, had even snuck out of HQ in an effort to hide his plans from them… Was it possible that his doubt stemmed from his denial that the successors could have betrayed him? He had to admit, it wasn't entirely impossible.

"It _is_ true, and you know it. You can deny it all you want, but deep in your heat, you're suspicious. You're suspicious that the successors are plotting against you, suspicious that they _are_ planning to kill your lover. And let me tell you, Lawliet, you're _right._ I have been overseeing these events since the beginning, and that includes all the plans your little successors have been coming up with. Therefore, I know that they are planning to betray you. You cannot trust them."

And the scary thing was, L barely had the energy to deny it. The instant he heard those words from the Shinigami King, he realized just how suspicious he really was, and just how willing he was to believe that the successors were going to betray him. "So then," he rasped, "you're telling me that my only chance is to gamble on the assumption that you're telling the truth, and that this…this _bullet_ will act as the thing that erases Light's memories?"

"Well, yes, in as many words. I could go into more detail, but you seem to be in a hurry, and said details aren't necessary."

"That's it, then? There's no catch, other than your request that I burn the notebooks?"

"Well…one more thing."

Of course. It could never be that easy.

"Well, you see, my crown was meant to take away the memories of a human. The instant I place it on their head, their memories vanish completely, and consequently, their possession of the notebook is relinquished. The key word there is _head—_ the crown is placed _on the head._ And while the crown may have changed shape, it is still, in nature, a crown. And therefore, it functions the same. You'll need to make contact with his head in order for it to work."

L's blood ran cold as he realized what the Shinigami King was asking him to do. "You're asking me to shoot him in the head."

"I am."

"He'll die!"

The Shinigami King rolled his eyes. "Have you heard nothing I've said? The bullet isn't a _bullet._ It'll make him bleed, but it won't kill him. After you've shot him, I'll take the bullet back and change it back into a crown so I don't lose it permanently. But, of course, that means that you'll only have one shot."

 _This just keeps getting better and better…_

"If you miss that shot, you won't be given another."

L groaned. "And let me guess…this all fits perfectly into your little blueprint?"

That earned him a smirk. "Yep. I know exactly what's going to happen, and how you're going to spend that shot of yours."

L slowly slipped the bullet into his pocket. He wasn't sure how he should feel about all of this—it was both too good to be true and too horrible to be good. He was half convinced that he'd gone insane, and was just hallucinating within the confines of a padded cell.

The Shinigami King was eyeing him carefully. "Oh no, Lawliet—you're not just shoving my crown into your pocket!"

L blinked. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, confused.

The King rummaged around in his clothing for a moment, his hand emerging holding a strange amulet. He popped open the back of the amulet, which was a very simple silver oval. He held out his hand, and L handed him the bullet without hesitation. The thing was inserted into the back of the necklace, then closed as a form of concealment. "Here," he said, holding it out to L, a grin on his face.

"You're making me wear a necklace?" L asked, dumbfounded.

"Yep!"

L hesitated. But then, slowly, he reached out and took the offered amulet, slipping it over his neck. It hung just below his collarbone, and looked rather girly for him to be wearing. But still, if it would help him save Light, he would wear just about anything.

His attention was drawn to the shinigami as he stifled a laugh.

"What is it?" he demanded irritably.

"Oh…" the King chuckled. "It just looks good on you, that's all. Would you like me to get you a dress to go with it?"

It took L a moment to realize that he was being mocked. And when he did realize, first he felt a spike of anger—but then he just ended up feeling ridiculous as realized just how childish he was being. Instead of focusing on his anger, he turned his mind on other things—and that just landed him right back on the subject of his successors, all of who were no doubt waiting for him in headquarters. Betrayers they may have been, but he didn't want to make them worry. He'd have to figure out how he was going to act around them, he realized. Perhaps he'd keep his cover and pretend he didn't know that they were lying…or perhaps he'd lie and say that he'd come to his senses, and that he wanted to kill Kira. That, at least, would give him an opportunity to use the bullet. But that was a thought for another time—right now, he had to get back before the successors became too worried. It was with that in mind that L announced, "I should really be going now. My friends will be wondering where I've gone off to."

The shinigami king raised a hand, eyes flashing darkly. "Wait. There is more."

L's paused wordlessly.

"You need to know one more thing." The king leaned towards L, dark eyes smoldering dangerously. "You are not the first human to come here in the past few days."

L's chest constricted. Breath refused to come to him, the implications of that simple sentence blasting into his mind painfully. "What?" It was a choked sound, a desperate syllable.

"I'm telling you that you do not have the advantage. What I have done by giving you that bullet is merely giving you a fighting chance."

"And what do you mean by that?" His voice was strangled and weak.

"Kira came to me for advice."

"He…he asked your advice? And you allowed him to come here?"

The King's brow furrowed. "I did, yes. I've told you, everything I do is in adherence to the end goal I am attempting to achieve—so I had no reason to turn him away."

L swallowed thickly. "What did he want from you?"

The King held L's gaze steadily. "He asked me how he could become a shinigami."

Silence.

L couldn't understand. Wouldn't understand. Kira… was trying to become a god of death? No… that wasn't possible! It was strictly forbidden and _impossible_ for humans to become gods of death. And yet Kira had been here before L, asking the King to make him a god. "What did you tell him?"

The King's expression was sad, crushingly so. Pitying. "I told him how to achieve his goal."

It was possible, then. It was possible to become a god of death. L didn't know how to handle it. "How?"

"Using a method that only I know," the king responded softly. "A ritual of sorts. The person wishing to ascend to godhood must offer me two sacrifices. One, a current shinigami must be killed, one who will willingly give up their life for the mortal. And two, a human must willingly sacrifice their life for the person achieving godhood. And thirdly, there are words that must be spoken. Very specific words, which Kira now knows. If those conditions are met, and I approve of the person asking to enter our ranks, then I grant them the powers of a shinigami."

A chill ran up L's spine. He knew better than anyone that those conditions were easily met. Beyond would gladly sacrifice himself for Kira, if the teen just did a bit of manipulating. As for the shinigami… if Kira had Misa order Rem to sacrifice herself… she would do it. That would be it. Light—no, _Kira_ would become a god. It was so simple…

"And, Lawliet, you must take heed, for once Kira becomes a shinigami, that bullet will no longer work on him—for a shinigami cannot erase another shinigami's memories."

It was so much worse than L had imagined. "And… let me guess. Once Kira becomes a shinigami, burning the Death Note won't matter."

"No. Once he becomes a shinigami, burning his Death Note will kill him—at least, it'll kill him after his lifespan runs out, and he isn't able to kill any more humans to add to it." The king bowed his head mournfully. "And there's more. Shinigami are not human, as you well know. And as is such, we cannot become sick, we cannot die of illness, we cannot contract any sort of medical issue that humans must deal with. And as is such, shinigami cannot have multiple personalities. In other words, Kira and Light will no longer be able to exist in the same body—one will consume the other, and once Kira becomes a shinigami, it will not be reversible. If Kira isn't overthrown by the time the ritual is complete, then Light will never be able to come back."

L couldn't bring himself to fully mull over the implications of that statement. "Is there anything else you're neglecting to tell me?"

"Only one more thing."

L groaned. He didn't know how many more surprises he could handle.

"I have instructed Kira to carry out his little ritual on the night of the new moon. He will have to wait to act until then, which means that you have time to locate him and use the bullet before that happens. One week, to be exact. One week in which you must find a way to save him, or in which you lose him forever."

L flinched. The nearest new moon, exactly seven days away, fell directly on the New Year. How symbolic. "I can do it." L's voice was cold and determined. "I must."

"You know where he is thanks to Rem," the King pointed out. "He will not move from that place until the day of the ritual, when he will move to the site in which he will become a god and kill Light for good."

"Do you know where the site will be?" L asked.

"I do not."

L rose and turned his back on the king. "Then you have told me all that you can. I must leave now."

The king rose as well. "I know that I haven't been as helpful to you as you hoped, but still—while you are still here, allow me to wish you good luck."

L growled, "Let me guess, you said the same thing to Kira when he was here."

"I did."

"I have nothing more to say to you. Send me home." Anger was bubbling in L's throat. This bastard may have doomed his Light by helping Kira!

"Very well, L Lawliet. But consider one thing as you make the journey back." He approached L calmly, laying a hand on his forehead. L felt the tugging sensation begin behind his neck almost immediately, felt his eyes and mouth glue themselves shut. He felt his arms and legs go boneless. "You have just been told how to achieve immortality," the King whispered in his ear, his childish form forcing him to stand on his toes to reach L's height. "You can easily take advantage of the ritual to become a god yourself. Think about it… the great L, immortal and all-powerful, traveling around the world and catching criminals. Or… you can stay on your current path, the path where you attempt to save the boy, and you will meet your end. I can see your lifespan, Lawliet. I can see it all, and you don't have much longer. Unless something changes, you will not live to see the fruits of your labor." His hand was gone from L's forehead, his lips no longer hovering by his ear. "Think about it."

Then he felt the sensation of being yanked through the air, the sensation of weightlessness, falling, then nothing.

†††

L's eyes snapped open, his entire body jolting upwards with a gasp. He took a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving despite his best efforts to calm himself. He was sweating as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.

A nightmare…

L frowned, one hand reaching shakily to his neck. His fingertips brushed cool metal, and he knew it had not been a dream. He had really spoken with the Shinigami King. He really had a way to end it all before Light was lost forever. A way to separate Light and Kira and _keep_ them separated, without any bloodshed. It was too good to be true. L's fingers left the amulet and slipped to the pocket of his jeans. He felt the coarse texture of the page of the Death Note Rem had given him, and he withdrew it immediately. It was folded small already, but L folded it two more times and popped open the back of the silver amulet so he could store it with the bullet. He should burn it, he knew, because he knew he would never use it. He would never use that page of the Death Note because he had promised Light. Even if it became clear that Kira had beaten Light to the point of no return, he would not use Kira's greatest weapon against him. He loved Light too much for that.

L toyed with the amulet. As good as this was, it left him in an awkward position. He had so many options, and none of them were truly good… He could tell the task force and the successors about the bullet. But they most likely wouldn't believe him. After all, they thought he was mentally unstable due to the loss of Light. He could tell them Light's location and accompany them under the pretense of agreeing to kill him, then swoop in at the last moment and administer the cure to Light's alternate personality. But that would leave Light wide open to the successors' gunfire. He could help the successors locate Light under the pretense of finding and destroying the notebook, then swiftly shoot him before the successors realized what was happening. But once again, that plan left Light wide open to being shot—and not in the way L wanted. Perhaps, L thought, he should go to the Teito Hotel alone, gun in hand, and use Rem to his advantage so that he could easily shoot Kira. But no, if anything went wrong, the successors and the task force wouldn't be able to find him and offer their help. For all he knew Beyond had already returned and was hiding so that no one on the outside would know he was back. He could be waiting to ambush L when he attempted to get Light back.

He had one chance. He couldn't mess it up.

"L! Hey, L!"

L jumped slightly as he heard the voice, and immediately he realized that he had no idea where he was. It was pitch black all around him, so he didn't know if he was still on the street, back in Misa's apartment, or somewhere else entirely. Frowning, L ran his fingers along whatever he was lying on, and was surprised to find that the material was soft and springy. When he touched the area beneath his head, he found a soft, squishy object propping him up. _Ah…_ L thought. _It seems that the Shinigami King has put me back where I belong. How considerate of him._

"L!" that voice called again. "L, come on, answer me!"

Hmm…perhaps he should answer. "I'm here!" L called out.

There was an excited gasp. Then there was the sound of footsteps rushing towards him. And then the bedroom door opened, and Matt charged into the room. His goggles were crooked, hair sticking up, clothing askew. He looked, in a word, ruffled. As light flooded the room L looked around to confirm his suspicious—and just as he'd suspected, he was lying in his bed in the room he shared with the successors. He was alone, other than Matt. "Matt," he greeted. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I know you're trying to rest and all, but this is important! Kira has sent us a request to open communications between us!"

L raised a brow. Did…did the successors not know that he'd been gone? Had they no idea that he'd vanished from that rooftop however many hours ago? "Matt…" L said slowly. "Can you tell me what I did last night?"

"Last night?" he echoed, clearly irritated that the detective hadn't immediately launched out of bed to speak to Kira. "You know perfectly well what you did—you spent some time up on the roof, then meandered back here and fell asleep! We were going to wake you up a few hours ago when the sun rose, but you hadn't been sleeping well, and so—"

"Amazing…" L murmured. It seemed that not only had the Shinigami King returned him to his room, but he'd made the successors think that he'd just walked down from the roof and settled in. They had no idea he'd been gone.

"What's amazing? No—you know what, save that for later. Kira's _calling_ us, L, don't you understand that? Get up and go down to the investigation room!"

So Kira was attempting to contact them, eh? "Oh, really? What does he want?"

"We don't know, he just contacted us randomly! Come on, hurry up! Everyone's waiting for you!"

L rose from the bed shakily, legs trembling as if he hadn't used them in weeks. He supposed that it must have been a side effect of traveling through realms, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought of Kira falling out of bed directly after his conversation with the King. It was quite amusing. "Very well. I will speak with Kira."

Matt stared at him, wide-eyed. No doubt he was noticing the sudden change in L. The dark-haired detective had done nothing for weeks but mope around and work on the case halfheartedly. He hadn't been sleeping, and had developed a startling case of depression—even if he did shove it down by working all hours of the day. The successors had practically put him on suicide watch, thus L's lack of a gun and his shared room with the successors. But now L was smiling up at Matt as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and he hadn't flinched at the sound of Kira's name. He seemed better. Not okay, but better. Seeming to realize this, Matt smiled in return, though it was delayed.

"Come on," L said, brushing past Matt as he left the bedroom. "Let's go talk to Kira."

†††

The instant L entered the investigation room, everyone looked up in awe. The detective had been working from his room more and more over the past week, and it was quite rare that he appeared more than once every other day. And what was more, the vibe coming off him wasn't the same dark, depressing tone he'd been teeming with for the past month. He seemed almost like his old self, and they appeared to be marveling at the change. L didn't blame them—he felt lighter somehow, even though he knew his situation was really no better than it had been before his conversation with the King. He supposed it was just because he knew where Light was, and that he was safe. And more importantly, he had a way to save him. And even though the odds were still stacked against him, he felt like he had a fighting chance. A light at the end of the tunnel. L chuckled lightly at his own pun, earning him several confused stares.

"Um… L?" Matsuda spoke up hesitantly, no doubt fearing the detective's mood swings. "Are you okay?"

L blinked up at the man. "Actually, I'm feeling quite well today, Matsuda. I believe we've been contacted by Kira, yes?"

"…Yeah," Matsuda said, brow furrowed.

Near eyed L suspiciously, no doubt sensing something was different. "Kira has requested to speak with L specifically," he said slowly. "Therefore we have set up the adjacent room with all the necessary equipment. It is equipped with a voice scrambler, a laptop, and a video camera, though you will obviously not be needing it."

L nodded. "Thank you. I shouldn't keep the god of the new world waiting."

Mello shot him an odd glance. "What's wrong with you? Just yesterday you wouldn't get out of bed."

"I have seen the light, Mello, no pun intended. I have come to terms with the fact that Light has been temporarily removed from my presence, and though it will take much work and time, I am confident that if I treat this as just another case, I will be able to bring him back. Therefore I am going to approach this case from a more optimistic angle in an attempt to work more efficiently."

Six pairs of eyes stared blankly. Then Matt spoke up. "Well, I think it's great that you're out of bed and feeling more optimistic."

L smiled, though it almost hurt after frowning for so long. "I will speak with Kira now." He turned his back on the other people in the room and headed for the door leading to the adjacent room. As he moved he felt his mood fall slightly—he was happier, yes, now that he had a fighting chance. But he did not want to see Kira using Light's body to deliver some message of evil intent. For that was certainly what he would be doing. L shuddered slightly as he reached the door and tugged it open.

†††

L entered the room slowly, hearing the door slide shut behind him automatically. He actually flinched as he heard the lock slide into place. Slowly, one foot after the other, he moved towards the chair, which was covering the screen. He knew what would be on that screen… he knew…

"L…" drawled a venomous voice.

A pang of dulled pain shot through L as he heard that voice, almost managing to overwhelm the slight happiness he'd managed to acquire. It was the voice of love and happiness, of laughter and gentle intelligence. It was the voice he had grown so accustomed to for the short time he was able to hear it. But then, it was also the voice of pain. The voice that begged for mercy against an oppressive mental opponent that taunted L from the shadows.

The voice of Kira, and the voice of Light.

"L," the voice called again, rolling the short name over his lips, savoring the flavor. "I know you can hear me…" The voice practically sang as it called out to the detective.

L felt a slight lump appearing in his throat as he finally reached the chair and looked beyond it. And on the other side of that chair was the one person that he hated, and the one person that he loved, staring out at him from a video camera.

"You… dyed your hair." Despite his decision to be strong when facing Kira, and his newfound motivation, he found that his voice was tight. Although, he thought, there was some level of amusement in imagining Kira sitting in a beauty salon.

The voice purred, "It suits me, don't you think?" And the man behind that voice leaned forward, one leg crossed over the other, and leaned on one hand. His eyes were slightly lidded, a lazy smirk playing across his features. For a heartbeat L could almost imagine that this being was his Light. But then his eyes fell upon the scarlet gleam behind the lids, and the most startling change—the candy-red dye in his lover's hair. A shocking, electrifying scarlet. "After all," Kira murmured, "It _is_ my body now—I can do what I want with it. Isn't that right, L?"

L gritted his teeth, turning off his voice filter and connecting to Kira via camera. "I want to see Light, you monster."

His words were met with the widening of Kira's smirk, then a small laugh as the camera began broadcasting L's image to him directly. There would be no masks here. "I'm sure you do. But unfortunately that isn't in the cards for you. Light Yagami is gone, and the sooner you accept that the sooner you can go back to being my rival without constantly worrying about your lost love. It would be a shame if I defeated you due to your obsession over a dead man."

Pain. Pain over the life L had unintentionally ended. "I will get him back, Kira." His voice was level, unemotional. Even in such terrible agony, he was still L. And L did not show pain.

Except… around Light. And recently, around the task force as well.

"Oh, no you won't. Not when I have such a great advantage."

L allowed himself a moment of smugness at those words. He longed to raise his hand to touch the necklace holding the bullet, the only thing other than burning the notebook that could save Light. Kira didn't know. He didn't know that he had a way to save Light.

"There's only one thing that concerns me," Kira drawled. "You see, I had surveillance cameras installed in Misa's apartment just in case something happened. Unfortunately I wasn't able to set up any wire taps, but surveillance cameras were enough in this case—enough to let me know that you went to Rem and had a little chat. And what's more, it was enough to inform me that have a page of the Death Note, and enough to tell me that Rem has most certainly betrayed me."

For just a moment, fear jolted through L—but then he registered the fact that Kira didn't have wiretaps set up. He hadn't heard L's conversation with Rem, and therefore didn't know that he'd been told his location. And more importantly, he didn't know that he'd been to speak with the Shinigami King. This was still salvageable, if L could play it right. Kira absolutely _could not know_ that he had means of defeating him. "It is absolutely _not_ true that Rem has given me a page of the Death Note. And even if she had, I would certainly not stoop so low as to kill you. That would be using Kira's way of thinking, and we both know I have fought against that way since day one of our battle."

Kira's eyes narrowed. If you looked beyond the fury and bloodlust, they were really quite beautiful. "Don't lie to me, L. I know that Rem has given you a page of the notebook because I _saw_ her do it. And now, as unfortunate as it is, you have the means to kill both Beyond and me. But luckily for me, you won't deign to use the notebook simply because of a promise you made to dearest Light. Isn't that right?"

So he knew about the promise. It wasn't really a surprise, but L was still disgusted, as if some sacred vow had been defiled by this monster knowing the words that constituted it. "If you wish to stay alive then I wouldn't suggest questioning my reasoning, Kira."

The red-haired boy laughed, throwing his head back. "Leave it to you to cut through all the bullshit to get to the point! I like that about you, L, I really do! But…" His gaze hardened. "But that one quality isn't enough to redeem you."

L's patience was running thin. "What do you want?" he snapped. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to fight me," Kira hissed, a sudden fury in his eyes. "I want you to fight as hard as you can, and in the end watch the world fall apart at the seams because you refused to kill a teenager. I want you to have _no idea_ what to do, or what my intentions are, and still attempt to battle me. I want to see you suffer as you wonder eternally whether or not your boyfriend is still alive. And most of all, I want to watch you realize, as your world burns around you, that all of your fighting is futile."

"I would have fought you no matter what!" L spat. _And I already know your intentions,_ he thought. "So why did you call me, then? To make sure I would fight you?"

He fixed his face with a look of false surprise. "Why, L!" he gasped. "I just wanted to speak to you to give you a little motivation!"

"…Motivation?"

Kira leered at him. "Make no mistake, L, you are going to lose, and I am going to derive incredible pleasure from watching you fall. But it's no fun if you don't put up a fight first… so I took the liberty of doing some work behind the scenes to make sure your fight is completely whole-hearted."

L's eyes slipped closed for a heartbeat. So this was it. Kira planned to tell him what Beyond had done while he was in England. He thought he already knew, but to hear it for certain…

Kira reached off camera for a heartbeat. When he pulled his hand back, it was holding a printed out picture of a page of the Death Note. With a malicious smile on his face, he held up the picture to the camera. Names were scrawled down the notebook in the picture. "Do you recognize these names?"

L's eyes skimmed the list. "Should I?" he asked, though his voice was weaker than he would have liked it to be. _I knew,_ he reminded himself. _I knew that this was going to happen. I knew that my children were dead before I even started this conversation._

Kira's eyes narrowed. "Really, L?" he chuckled. "You don't recognize the names of the children you grew up with?"

The breath was immediately gone from L's lungs.

Kira reached off camera again, returning with a newspaper clipping in his hand. "Let's see…" he drawled. "Ah, here it is. An orphanage in England faced a sudden and unforgiving bout of illness that is still unidentified, even though it took the lives of every child living in the establishment… dozens were killed, and authorities quarantined the zone, but strangely, the virus hasn't spread to one other person than the dozens originally diagnosed…" he glanced up, red eyes flashing with sadistic pleasure. "Shall I read more?"

L's entire world slowed. _I knew,_ he repeated. _I already knew._ And somehow that didn't ease his guilt.

"Beyond's eyes," Kira murmured, almost to himself, "are very useful at times."

So that was it. Kira had killed them, all of them, even if he had acted indirectly through Beyond. Tears were pricking at his eyes again, and L bit back a cry as he reminded himself that he had been allowing himself to cry far too often lately. "You…" And there was the anger, barging past the pain as he realized that the man he was staring at was the man who had murdered nearly everyone he cared about. "You _bastard!"_ His voice raised in volume as his vision washed with red.

And Kira, that monster—he _smirked_ at L, tightening his grip the notebook that belonged to the man who had condemned the children at Wammy's House. "So, L?" he murmured. "Are you _motivated?_ "

L's hands shook as he remembered the pen in his hand, the Death Note on the table. "I…" he rasped. "I can kill you!"

" _Can_ you?"

Of course he _could_. L had the capability. He _could_ pull out the page of the Death Note and write the monster's name. But he wouldn't. He would never break his promise, and Kira knew this. But he didn't know about the bullet, and that was something that L _would_ use to kill Kira. And then, before he could stop himself, he was blurting something out, something drawn from his lips by the pure frustration of seeing Kira mock the deaths of the orphans.

"I know that you have been to the shinigami realm," he said.

Kira froze. His eyes, bright red and dangerous, fixed themselves on the detective. "…What did you say?" he asked softly. All hints of humor were gone now, to be replaced by a scowl.

"I know that you went to speak with the Shinigami King. And I know what you are trying to do. I know that you are trying to turn yourself into a shinigami." L raised a finger as if he were a small child reciting something for a teacher. "In order to become a shinigami one must first have a shinigami willing to die for them commit suicide, followed by the willing sacrifice of another human, all on the night of a new moon, which happens to be one week away on the night of the New Year."

L thought that he had never seen anyone look quite so shocked. He was almost amused, until he remembered that he had just carelessly given away almost everything he knew.

"How do you know that?" Kira leaned towards the camera menacingly, and for a moment L was struck with the absurd fear that he was going to reach straight through the computer screen and kill him.

"I had a conversation with Rem!" L blurted, aware that he was no longer able to just play it off as if he didn't know anything. "You saw me talking to her, and that's what we were talking about."

"Bullshit!" Kira snapped. "That information came from the King himself, and he was the only one that knew it until I came to see him! The _only way_ you could know that is if you went to see the King yourself!" His eyes were wild and crazy as he literally grabbed the camera and shook it.

L stared, at a loss for words. What could he say to cover up his mistake?

Kira's expression suddenly flooded with understanding, and he sat back, calm as ever. "Of course," he whispered. "You _did_ speak with the King, didn't you? After all, he himself told me that he was all making this world _the way it's meant to be_. He's made it quite clear that he's not on either one of our sides—so it makes sense that he's helped both you and me. I don't know why I didn't see it coming… But now we're on equal footing, aren't we? You know my plan, and I know that you have that piece of the Death Note."

L let out a breath subtly, relieved. Kira wasn't going to figure out that he had another means of killing him and saving Light. L was aware that he didn't have the advantage—far from it, in fact. Not only did he have little information on Kira or Beyond, but he had no Death Note, a useless task force, an unstable mind, and three geniuses who would rather kill Light than save him. Giving L the bullet had given him the boost he needed to at least _begin_ to fight Kira and Beyond.

"Yes," L lied finally, turning his focus back on the red-haired teen. "We are on equal footing, Kira. So you will have no excuse when I defeat you."

He cackled. "And how will you do that? Kill me? Will you really have the nerve to end my life, L?"

"I will do what is necessary." And what was necessary was shooting Kira with that bullet. Not that Kira had to know that.

Kira looked fascinated. Then he leaned back, shrugging. "Then things are about to get interesting, aren't then, L? You have one week to find me and stop me before I become a shinigami and Light is destroyed. One week. Actually, six days, eighteen hours, thirty two minutes, seven seconds… six…five…four…" he smirked. "Need I go on?"

L ignored him. "If you're going to pressure me about time, you can hardly keep me here and _waste_ that time. You said that you contacted me to motivate me to find you, but I was already fully motivated. I can't help but wonder if you had some other goal to fulfill by calling me."

Kira tilted his head slightly to one side mischievously. "Is that so? I guess we'll just have to find out when we next meet. Hopefully, in one week's time so that I can kill you before Light's eyes. Perhaps I'll let him out for a moment just before your death so that he can watch the light leave your eyes." There was a nasty sneer on his face. "Or I could kill you using the Death Note. I know your name, _Lawliet._ "

L's blood ran cold. Once again, he had known this. He had known that Kira knew his name. But hearing it from the murderer himself… it brought everything into perspective. "I am aware that you can kill me," he said. "Perhaps this was your ulterior motive for contacting me—so you could threaten me without really having any intention of killing me at the current moment in time."

Kira snarled furiously. "I will _kill_ you, L Lawliet!"

"So it seems. But until then I intend to continue working against you. Goodbye, Kira. I have nothing more to say to you."

L barely caught the expression of infuriated surprise on Kira's face before he reached out and ended the call. The detective felt a spike of satisfaction at that surprise, at the fact that he had managed to make Kira mad.

As screen flickered to black, L sat back against his chair, the tension melting out of him. So this was it. The curtains were drawing away from the stage, the actors at their marks. And it appeared that L's cue was at hand. His was the next move to make. So, what would he do?

L spun his chair in endless circles, eyes locked on the ceiling. L and Kira had both laid their cards out on the table, other than the small fact that L knew Kira's location and had a way to save Light. L could not tell the successors about the bullet or the page of the Death Note, for they would surely not believe him. They were people with logical minds, and they would never believe that a bullet could pierce the skull without killing Light as well as Kira. They had no proof, so they would not believe. It was more likely that they would get L to tell them Kira's location and go after him, killing him on the spot. On the other hand, there was the task force. They were equally useless. They were unintelligent, and they, like the successors, would almost certainly not believe him. They thought his mind was weak, shaken by grief. So that left L with one option.

Go after Kira by himself.

It wasn't an ideal plan. It wasn't even a _good_ plan. But by L's reasoning, it could work. He had Rem's support, and Beyond and Ryuk were away (unless, he thought, they _weren't_ away and were simply waiting to ambush L when he made a move). Kira was all on his own, and L had both the bullet and the shinigami on his side. And what was better, Kira would not kill him with the Death Note just yet. He wanted to defeat L, rub his face in his own mistakes, and then, presumably, kill him. But he wouldn't kill L with the notebook until he made sure that he knew he was defeated. Therefore, if Kira happened to catch on to L's plan, the detective would be safe until their fight was through. Yes… L would take the gun and the page of the Death Note, and keep them concealed. And then he would go to the Teito Hotel and shoot Kira before he ever had a chance to _attempt_ godhood.

L's plan ran through his mind endlessly as he stood and reentered the investigation room. He made sure to school his features into the perfect expression of hopeful pain, maintaining the optimism he'd shown before the conversation while still displaying the pain of speaking with the one who had taken his lover away.

"Well?" Soichiro demanded. "What did he say to you? What did my son want?"

"He is not your son," L reminded him harshly. "He is the monster that has possessed your son. And he said everything I already know. I think he was only wishing to aggravate me. You see, as you know, both Kira and Beyond want nothing more than to thoroughly humiliate and defeat me. I am almost certain that this call was an attempt at making sure I intended to fight them wholeheartedly. After all, if I don't fight with my whole strength, how could they find satisfaction in defeating me? However… Kira has revealed something to me."

Now came L's plan.

"What did he say?" Matsuda asked, leaning forward eagerly. L wasn't surprised to see his enthusiasm. The task force had been working two days shy of three weeks on finding Kira, and they'd had no breakthroughs.

L ran through his speech one more time in his mind to make sure it was correct. Then he said carefully, "Kira told me that in order for his plan, whatever it may be, to take place, he must be in the Yellow Box Warehouse on the night of the New Year." A lie. A complete lie. It was true that Kira had to perform the ritual at the new moon, which just happened to be the New Year. But the Yellow Box Warehouse was a distraction from Kira's real location. If L was going to make a move on Kira, then he couldn't have the successors or the task force figuring out where he was prematurely. If the investigators had both a time and a place, then when L disappeared they would have no suspicion that he had gone to confront Kira, for the given time (the New Year) dictated that it wasn't possible. In other words, since it wasn't the New Year, L should have no way of knowing where Kira was since he wouldn't be at the warehouse. But the investigators didn't know that L had lied. And with the _real_ information, it was entirely possible that L could confront Kira ahead of time.

Near's eyes narrowed, and for a moment L thought that he had caught on to the deception. But then he said, "It appears that we have a breakthrough in the case. The New Year is slightly less than seven days away, so we have plenty of time to prepare. The plan stays the same. We get to Kira and burn the notebook, no matter the cost."

L bit back a furious snarl. He wasn't fooled—not anymore. He knew full well that the successors planned to kill Kira the instant he was in sight.

"Yes," Soichiro agreed. "And if the notebook is not readily available, we will capture Kira and track it down."

Near was still watching L, eyes dancing with thinly veiled suspicion. "It appears that that is the case…" he murmured. "We should attempt to track Kira down before he has a chance to enact this final plan. But until then I believe we can be fairly certain that we won't be killed."

"Excellent," L said, keeping his tone light. "Things are indeed looking up. If we can manage to locate Kira before the night of the New Year, then conditions will be ideal. And if we can't manage it, then we can certainly catch him in the warehouse."

"Yeah!" Matsuda agreed, a stupid grin on his face. "And now that things are looking up, you can work with us in the investigation room again, L! You won't have to hide away in your room all the time!"

"I suppose I won't," L said. He glanced at the ground, his face portraying an expression of practiced sheepishness. "That is, if you'll have me back." _That's it, play the pity card. If they pity me, they won't suspect that I'm planning anything._

Soichiro nodded gruffly, not meeting L's eyes. He was still upset with him for "seducing" his son. "We don't have the authority to stop you if you want to come back."

Matsuda glared at the chief. "What are you saying, chief? Of course we want him to come back! L, you're more than welcome!"

L turned his remorseful gaze on Mogi, who shifted uncomfortably. He nodded shortly, returning to his work. It seemed that he had the approval of both his successors and the task force.

"If you're really willing to work with me after all this…" L smiled. "…Then I suppose I'll come back and join you here."

There was a general nod of the head. Everyone seemed pleased to have L back in the investigation room after several days spent cooped up in his bedroom. L made his way over to his computer, brushed the dust off the screen, and sat down. He'd have to work fast, he knew, in order to formulate a way to sneak out and confront Kira. He'd need a gun, a bulletproof vest, a few doses of sedative…there was much to be done.

And with that in mind, he settled in and turned on his computer, lowering his fingers to the keys and beginning to type.

There were six days until the New Year.

 **Thus ends part four of six, the longest, most dense part of the story. There's going to be some action in chapter twenty-one, and I'm super excited for it! Quite honestly, all my other writing projects are action/adventure, so I've had some experience writing fight scenes and other such action—thus my excitement! I hope you'll enjoy it just as much as I do!**

 **I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was** _ **so much work**_ **to edit! Whenever the characters have huge conversations like this, it's difficult to get everything right. And of course, if something doesn't make sense to you, then message me and I'll gladly explain. Not everything that goes through my head ends up in the story, and so there are bound to be some holes here and there. And if you** _ **did**_ **enjoy this chapter, and you've put up with my bending of the rules and BS until now, then please leave me a review!**


	20. Twilight

**Welcome to chapter twenty! There's not much to say about this chapter, actually. So, thanks if you left a review on the last chapter! To Blazedoll and anyone else who's curious: while there will be quite a bit of action at the Teito Hotel, the story's climax won't take place there, and there are still quite a few chapters until the apex of the action. I'd tell you how many chapters are left, but I kind of want it to be a surprise. And also, Beyond will have his time to shine…but just not in this chapter ;)**

 **Chapter 20: Twilight**

There were six days until New Year's Eve.

L's plan was coming together. First he reinstated himself as the head of the task force, working alongside the others in the investigation room. He put himself back on good terms with the task force members and steadily began to rebuild his relationship with his successors. He hadn't put much effort into speaking to them during the past three weeks, and he missed their company. Though, he mused, not as much as he missed Light's.

Though the pain of losing Light wasn't gone—it wouldn't be gone until he got him back—it had eased slightly with the knowledge that L was seemingly at an advantage, thanks to his knowledge of Light's location and the all powerful bullet. Every time that dull ache started up in his heart, L told himself that he would have his Light back soon—and though it wasn't enough to make the hurt go away, it was enough to dull it just enough to make it bearable. It was using this method that L kept up his farce of being almost completely healed and focused entirely on the case. He had a routine going—he would walk into the investigation room in the morning before anyone else and get to work on his fake attempts to locate Kira. Then, a few hours later, Matt, Mello, and Near would arrive and talk to him for a few minutes before getting to work on the case. Despite their intelligence, they hadn't even come close to discovering Kira's location. Although, L pondered, it wasn't because they were missing something. Kira and Beyond working together were simply too intelligent to make a mistake or leave a trail. If the King hadn't told him, L would probably never have figured out Kira's location.

Several hours after _that,_ the task force would arrive. They would stand around chatting for several minutes before seating themselves and continuing in their pointless efforts. Soichiro, of course, would avoid L at all costs. L knew that he wouldn't be able to face him until he rescued Light. And even then, he wasn't so sure that Soichiro would accept their relationship. He might try to take Light away from him. L shuddered at the thought of Light, newly rescued, being hauled off by his father. He had, of course, already played out several scenarios in his mind and planned for every possible outcome—if need be, he'd snatch Light away and hide him from his father until things calmed down. But it was hard to focus on things like that when Light wasn't safe yet.

Light… L spent most of his time thinking about him. Since he was only pretending to work, he had a lot of free time, and most of that free time was spent daydreaming. More often than not L found himself fantasizing about Light. He dreamed about every aspect of him. He dreamed about his hair. That beautiful tawny hair that hung about his face like a halo, hair that barely brushed his cheeks. He dreamed about how silky it was to the touch, how the strands would fall through his fingers beautifully whenever he reached a hand out to touch it. And his eyes… L could never contain a smile at the thought of those _eyes._ Deep, deep amber orbs flecked with the tiniest hints of ochre. Eyes that pierced the very soul, laying L's deepest thoughts out for examination. They were beautiful. He dreamed of his clothing, clothing that was always perfectly pressed, crisp and unstained no matter what. He would always wear variations of the same outfit—black or dark brown slacks, dress shoes, and a collared, button-up shirt. L shivered pleasantly at the thought of Light walking into the investigation room in his black slacks and crisp white shirt. L loved the purity of that white shirt, as ridiculous as it may have sounded. He loved Light's uncanny ability to keep that white shirt clean and untouched throughout the day, loved how the milky fabric contrasted with his beautiful tanned skin. Or maybe, L thought, he liked the black slacks with the scarlet shirt more. Oh, yes, he liked the scarlet shirt more… it hugged his form perfectly, showing off his toned body and bringing out the deep color of his eyes.

And beneath those perfect clothes…

This was the point where L had to stop thinking, for if he continued he would surely develop a problem right in the middle of the investigation room. He would try to keep his mind off his angel, hoping to focus on something else for a few minutes. But it was never long before his mind wandered right back to the amber-haired beauty—his eyes, his clothing, his hair…

But, of course, Light didn't have that amber hair anymore. It was red now. A brilliant scarlet fit to match the shirt L so enjoyed. L couldn't help but admit that the color looked fabulous on the teen—if the hair hadn't been a result of Kira's control, L might have enjoyed it. Perhaps he could convince Light to leave it red for a while, and wear that tight shirt with it, and a pair of his seldom-worn jeans—

And once again L had to stop thinking, save he embarrass himself in front of the task force.

When L wasn't fantasizing about Light or devouring sweets, he was working on his plan. The first step of said plan involved getting his hands on several doses of sedative, the use for which he would detail later. In order to do this, he used the same exact strategy he'd used the first time. He waited until it was almost time for the task force to go home, and then he announced, "I appear to have developed a headache, as unfortunate as it is. You have my apologies, but I will be heading up to the infirmary to retrieve some pain medication. I will converse with you tomorrow, members of the task force. And successors, I will meet you in our bedroom."

He received a general nod of the head from the task force, and a murmur of sympathy from Matt. L rose to his feet, ignoring them all, and marched over to the intercom on the far wall. Making sure his voice could be clearly heard, he requested, "Watari, I'm afraid that I have quite a craving for shortcake. Would you please deliver some to my room before I return there?"

There was a moment's pause before the inventor responded. "As you wish. I will prepare some now, and it will be waiting for you when you arrive at your quarters."

"You have my thanks." Good. That would keep Watari away from the monitoring equipment while L did what had to be done. It would take long enough to prepare the shortcake, and L only needed a few minutes to carry out the first step of his plan.

L stepped into the elevator and rode it up to the infirmary. The door was locked with a passcode, but that was easily overcome. The door slid open, and L strolled into the room with no resistance. He shot a glance at the security cameras in each corner of the room. A red light flashed on and off, blinking accusingly at L as he moved further into the infirmary in search of his prize. Just as he'd done before, he headed over to the far left side of the room to one of the many sets of cabinets. He yanked open the one closest to the wall and stood on his toes in order to reach the shelf that held several wax-sealed vials, all arranged in rows and organized according to what sort of liquid drug was held within. L easily spotted the set of vials he was looking form, marked by the absence of several of said vials. He'd had to sedate Light a few times, using up a few doses, and then he'd taken one more to use on Misa. There was already quite a dent in the supplies. And now, he knew, that dent was about to grow.

L reached up and scooped up four of the tiny vials, slipping each one into his pocket carefully. They barely fit, and created quite a bump—but the hem of L's shirt reached practically to his knees, so it wasn't hard to hide it. Four vials should be more than enough for his plan, but he still needed syringes. And so he reached down to one of the lower shelves and snatched up four of said syringes, shoving them into the opposite pocket. Good…he hadn't been caught, and he had everything he needed for step one of his plan.

L stepped back and closed the cabinet, making it look as if it had never been opened. He left the infirmary swiftly and quietly, and headed down the hall to the elevator. He took it down to his floor, then headed to his room. He had no doubt that Watari was finishing up his preparation of the cake, and would soon be heading down to his room.

A few minutes later, L was situated on his bed, sedatives and syringes hidden away in his bedside drawer. Watari entered with his cake, L smiled and conversed with him normally, and he left soon after, suspecting nothing.

The first step had gone over well.

The second step of L's plan was to get his hands on a gun. Ever since Kira's victory over Light and L's mental breakdown, L had been forbidden to have access to a firearm. The successors had essentially put him on suicide watch, concerned that his ever-growing depression would send him down the path of taking his own life. That was ridiculous, of course—he could never leave Light alone. But nevertheless they had still locked up all the guns in the building and informed Watari that he was not to give L a gun or weapon of any kind. This made L's plan difficult.

At first he'd thought that after he proved that his mental health was improving he would be given his gun back. But that had not happened. The successors were still suspicious, and therefore had not seen fit to provide the code for the gun safe. The task force, while they carried guns, were also forbidden from providing L with a weapon. That meant that L would have to get a gun from an outside source, or crack the code on the safe. He had but a few precious hours in which all three successors slept. But Watari would still be monitoring the cameras, making the chances of L getting his hands on a gun nearly impossible. So L did something incredibly stupid.

He went to Misa.

Well, not in the literal sense. He waited until he was alone and Watari was away from the monitoring equipment, then he pulled out a cell phone and called her, making sure his call was untraceable and completely secure. He didn't want anyone to figure out what he was up to—although, if Rem was still watching over Misa as she should be, they she would most likely figure out what was going on. That could be good, though. Perhaps she would help him. Or, L thought dismally, perhaps she would do nothing per the Shinigami King's order for her to remain uninvolved. She was a wild card, L knew, and he wasn't sure what to make of her. He could guess what all of the other variables to the equation would do: Kira, assuming he had no idea L was coming, would stay up in his hotel room. Upon L's arrival, if the detective was unable to shoot him before he was detected, then Kira would most definitely reach for the Death Note and attempt to kill him. Despite his promise of killing L on the New Year, and not a moment sooner, if Kira thought his life was in serious danger then he would no doubt use the notebook. Or maybe he wouldn't…and if that were the case, then he'd most certainly attack him by physical means instead, hoping to overpower him. Quite honestly, L wasn't sure which one of them was physically superior. He'd been the one to dominate Light, yes, but the teen had never attempted to resist, and had never deigned to use his full strength against his lover. As unfortunate as it was, that meant that L had no idea just how strong Light—Kira—was. For all he knew, he possessed a physical prowess even greater than his own. And if that were the case, then L didn't want to think about what would happen if it came to a physical fight. No matter how many different forms of martial arts he knew, if Kira was stronger than him, he'd be hard pressed to win.

But he'd gotten sidetracked—the next part of L's plan was the phone conversation with Misa. It was around midnight when he called her, so she was naturally displeased to be woken up _again_ by the eccentric detective who was holding "her Light" captive. In fact, L had to call her a grand total of five times before she picked up.

"Mmph…" she groaned when she finally picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Amane."

Her groan was immediate. "Rukzaki, do you know what time it is?"

She seemed too tired to remember that she was supposed to be mad at him. "Yes," L responded, hoping that she wouldn't wake up enough to become upset. "I apologize for the late hour, but I need to ask you something."

"Ask me…?" she paused, and L suspected that she was yawning. "Come on, what's so important that you have to call me so late? It's just as bad as last time…" she trailed off. "Hey!" she snapped suddenly, her voice becoming clearer as she no doubt became more aware. "You knocked me out!"

Ah…so she remembered. How unfortunate.

"Ryuzaki, you meanie!" she shrieked, her voice becoming so loud that L was forced to hold the phone a few inches away from his ear. "You wake me up by banging on my door, and when I let you in you knock me out! You're such a pervert, I bet you did weird things to me when I was sleeping!"

"W…what?" L questioned, completely taken aback. "You think that I…?"

"I knew it!" she cried, as if L's stuttering had been confirmation. "I knew you weren't in love with Light, you're just using him to get close to me! That must be it, because there's no way that you're really in love with him, because he's _mine,_ and you know it! You've just been acting like you're close to him so you can get to me and do weird, creepy things to me! That's why you came to my apartment, isn't it? That's why you want to keep me away from Light, because _you_ want _me_ all to yourself!"

L's mouth was hanging open stupidly, and he couldn't bring himself to care. Misa…was she an _idiot?_ No, that wasn't the question; she _was_ an idiot. Her words were so out of left field that he couldn't bring himself to respond.

"Well, it's not going to work!" Misa went on, oblivious to the confusion she was causing. "I'm going to have a date with Light on the New Year, and you're going to let us kiss without being a pervert and watching!"

"You…you think that I'm in love with you."

"Well, duh! Who wouldn't be in love with me? That must be the case, that _has_ to be the case, because there's no way you're seriously in love with Light! He's not _gay._ "

"Misa, I'm afraid that you may be slightly delusional. Would you care for me to find you a doctor? I assure you, there are treatments for your obvious delusions."

 _"What?_ Ryuzaki, cut it out! Why are you even calling me at this hour anyways, huh? Is this because you wanted to hear the melodious sound of my voice?" She broke of to laugh shrilly.

L wasn't sure whether to be furious or to laugh. But after a moment he decided to do neither, and said, "I assure you, I am not in love with you. Attempting to rationalize my involvement with Light by pretending that I am in love with you is foolish and moronic."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she wailed. "You're so mean! I'll never help you with _anything_ _ever_ , so you can just hang up right this instant!"

Oh dear…it was at this point that L remembered that he needed this girl to help him. But no matter—he had an ace up his sleeve. "Misa," he said slowly, "please listen to me. You don't have to do anything I say, but can you at least hear me out? It's for Light."

"That's what you said last time," she muttered, but she clearly had no intention of hanging up.

"Thank you. Now, listen to me—Light is in great danger, and I need a weapon to protect him. However, due to circumstances that are out of my control, I have no way to get my hands on any sort of firearm. Without said firearm, I believe—no, I _know_ that Light will die. I know that you love him dearly, Misa, so wouldn't you do anything to save him?"

"Oh," she gasped out, "Anything! I'd die for Light!"

Of course she would. She was just that obsessed, wasn't she? But then again…hadn't L promised to die for Light as well? He _knew_ that his lifespan was dwindling, and yet he was still determined to go after Light rather than making an attempt to save his own hide. Perhaps L was just as obsessed as Misa. "Good," L went on, pushing those nasty thoughts to the back of his mind. "Then I need you to do something for me, Misa. You see, as I said, I need a firearm and am unable to acquire one at the current moment in time. I need you to acquire one for me."

"Huh? But Ryuzaki, you know how strict Japan is on firearm usage and ownership!" Misa whined. "How do you expect me to get one? Do you think I can just waltz into a police station and _take_ a gun?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," L assured her. "With your level of fame, I'm sure you can whip something up. It doesn't have to be fancy, it just has to work. And if you _can_ get your hands on a gun, then think of how pleased Light would be with you once he found out what you did! He'd be so happy, Misa, all because you did this one, teeny, little thing for me." Perhaps he was taking his manipulation a bit too far…he knew full well that Light would never be happy with Misa, no matter what she did. "Do you think you can do it?"

Misa gasped, sounding utterly starstruck. "Oh, Ryuzaki, of course I can do it! I don't care how hard it is, I'll be sure to find a gun and get it to you as fast as I can!"

Hook, line, and sinker. It was just too easy. "Thank you, Misa. I'm executing my plan to keep Light safe tomorrow night, so I'll need you to take the gun to HQ tomorrow. You already know where we are, but I can't have you walking in the front door and just handing me a gun. I'll route you to a bunker in the front yard so you won't be spotted by security cameras. There is exactly one way in and out, and it is the only place in the entire area that isn't under constant surveillance. Once you're within a block of headquarters, I'll direct you to the entrance and tell you exactly where to place the gun so I can find it. I'll call you back from this line tomorrow at five o'clock exactly, so make sure you're in position by then. Do we have a deal?"

"Get a gun to headquarters by five tomorrow?" she asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed. "It might take a little longer than that for me to find a gun."

"Misa…" L murmured. "It _has_ to be tomorrow. And if you do this, then Light will have no choice but to see you for the beautiful, intelligent woman you are." He parted his lips to say the next part— _he will love you for the rest of his life_ —but he couldn't do it. He couldn't say something _that_ untrue, something _that_ manipulative. He just…couldn't.

Fortunately, if Misa's sudden, elated gasp had anything to say about it, she didn't need to hear the second part of L's speech. "Really? Wow!" she breathed. "If that's the case, then of course I'll get the gun to you on time! Just leave it to me, Ryuzaki!"

"Good," L responded calmly, a sour taste in his mouth. "I'm glad we agree on this Misa." And he was even more glad that he'd been able to draw her attention away from his relationship with Light. Things would have gotten quite messy if she'd remained determined to debate over it with him. "If you have no questions, then I must go. There are other things I must do, you see. To protect Light."

"Oh, of course!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You can count on me!"

"Thank you, Misa. Goodbye." He didn't wait for her response before hanging up and slipping the phone back into his pocket. He had no doubt that Misa would be able to accomplish this task, no matter how formidable it was. With her level of influence and shameless flirting, she would certainly be able to get her hands on a firearm of some sort—and, L reflected, it only had to work well enough to fire off a single shot.

But, of course, the gun and the sedatives weren't the only thing required for his plan. They were just two parts of a much more extensive strategy. So that night, just after hanging up on Misa, and about two hours after the successors went to sleep, L rose from his bed and headed down to the room that was currently being used as an armory. L knew that Watari was watching him and wondering what he was up to, but he hadn't yet deemed his intervention necessary.

L walked into the armory with no resistance. The gun safe, a massive bulletproof box guarded by several coded locks, stood in one corner. L had no doubt that if he walked anywhere near that safe he would have Watari questioning him in an instant. He, like the successors, didn't believe that his mental health was healed enough for him to be handling a gun. Deciding to put Watari's mind at rest, L walked to the opposite side of the room to the rack of bulletproof vests and other such pieces of equipment. The vests were lying on a rack that stretched nearly wall to wall. They came in all sizes and weights, some of them sporting camouflage patterns or other methods of disguise. L picked out a vest about his size and tried it on over his baggy white shirt. It was uncomfortably heavy, forcing him to hunch his shoulders even more than usual. But if it did its job well he didn't care how it felt. He took the vest off and went to drop it near the door. He then moved to the next rack, the one holding helmets with see-through shields over the front. L picked one of those up as well, but pushed the shield up. There was no point in hiding his face from the monster that already knew his name. He put the helmet in the same place as the vest, then moved to the next rack. He picked out a pair of boots, then a belt, and finally padding for his arms and legs. The pile near the door grew.

He had reached the weapons. Much to his irritation, not only were the guns locked away, but so were the batons, canisters of pepper spray, and tazers. Muttering irritably, L snatched up a pair of gloves from the adjacent rack and threw them towards the rest of the equipment he'd gathered, recognizing his inability to get his hands on any sort of weapon. When L dropped the gloves into his pile and moved back to observe it, he found himself staring at a jumbled but complete uniform. He had everything he would need to go after Kira without fear of being injured.

"Are you planning on going somewhere, L?"

L's head whipped up to look for the source of the voice. Watari was standing calmly at the door, eyes locked on the pile of equipment at his feet.

"Ah," L said nervously. "No, I wasn't planning on going anywhere. I just wanted to be ready in case something happens. I thought that perhaps we should pick out bulletproof vests and the works for the rest of the task force. There's no telling when Kira might make his move, after all. I just want to be prepared."

"L…" Watari sighed. His expression was pitying. "You can't seriously expect to wear all this around every day until the New Year."

"I can't," L agreed. "But I am feeling rather insecure at the moment, Watari, and having this equipment with me will make me feel much better. Please, allow me this." L had been playing the pity card a lot the past few days, but it seemed to be working, so he was more than willing to abuse it.

Watari's gaze softened even further. "Well… if it will make you feel better, then I don't think there's anything wrong with it." His eyes darted to the pile on the ground. "Would you like some help?" he asked. "That looks quite heavy."

"Yes, please," L said, a small smile on his face. "It is rather late, and if you would be so kind as to help me then I would be able to get to bed faster."

That was a lie. L just wanted to have a little more time to organize the finer details of his plan. If everything went according to plan, he would act tomorrow night. But first Misa would have to get him the gun. He'd have to make sure that he made time to call her at five o'clock the next day in order to direct her to the underground bunker. That way, when he snuck out that night he could retrieve the gun with no trouble and go on his way.

"Here you are," Watari said, opening the door and setting his armful of equipment on the dresser. He helped L to bed, though the detective very adamantly declared that he didn't need assistance. Clearly, the inventor still believed that L was highly unstable. "Goodnight, L," he said politely, once the detective was settled into bed. "I hope your dreams are pleasant." Then he turned and left, shutting the door quietly. Miraculously, none of the successors had woken up through the whole thing. Matt and Mello were still curled around each other, and Near was lying facing the wall, his thumb between his teeth.

L waited a few moments to make sure Watari was really gone. Then he rose, placing his feet carefully on the carpeted ground, and headed to the dresser. Pulling open one of the drawers, he withdrew a garbage bag that he'd stashed there earlier. Then he reached up to the safety equipment and lumped everything into the garbage bag as quietly as he could. Sparing a glance at the successors to make sure they were still asleep, he gathered up the bag and crept over to the closet. With searching fingers he located the small door in the right-hand side of the space. One push revealed a hidden opening, standard issue in all bedrooms in headquarters. It was just large enough for L to stuff the garbage bag full of equipment inside. He pulled the small door shut silently and removed himself from the closet. For a long moment he simply stood there, staring at the closet where his equipment was hidden, allowing his gaze to momentarily observe the nightstand where he'd hidden the sedatives and the syringes. He considered moving the contents of the nightstand to the compartment in the closet, but thought better of it—it was better to keep the components of his plan in separate places. That way, if one were discovered, the other one would remain untouched. He'd only have to rebuild a bit of his plan, not the whole thing.

L realized suddenly that the successors could awaken at any moment—and if they did, then it would seem a bit curious that he was standing stationary and staring down the closet door. And so, soundlessly, he slipped back into bed and got under the covers, not bothering to change out of his long-sleeved white shirt and baggy jeans. He felt a momentary feeling of awe as he realized that not only was his plan working, but he'd gotten through the first three stages without anyone realizing what was happening. Not even the successors had figured out what he was up to. Perhaps…perhaps this would actually work. Maybe, just maybe, L's death wasn't as close as he feared. The Shinigami King had told him, in as many words, that if he changed the path he walked, maybe made a few different decisions, then his lifespan could be altered. L wanted desperately to believe that he'd just made one of those life-altering decisions in deciding to go after Kira without the successors. Though, L knew, that alteration could just as easily be negative rather than positive. He just as well may have decreased his remaining lifespan. Hopefully, he mused, that was not the case. Being dead would rather mess up his plans for the future.

But it wouldn't come to that. L would make sure that it didn't come to that. With this, with his plan, everything would be okay. He could save Light, imprison Beyond, and show the successors just how wrong they were. And after…

L frowned. What would come after he saved Light? _That should be easy,_ he thought, unnerved. _You made a promise to Light. You promised him that you wouldn't leave him. And that means staying here in Japan, so he can join the police force like he always dreamed. There isn't even a question as to what will happen once I save Light—I'll stay. I'll remain in Japan for…_ L shuddered. For…for the rest of his life? He'd stay here forever? _Yes, forever. I'll stay here because Light wants me to. That's enough for me…so long as he's happy._

L realized with a start that he hadn't really considered the implications of the promise he'd made to Light. He'd have to set up a permanent base in Japan, somewhere where Light wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life. He'd have to find a way to hide himself without moving around constantly, and he'd have to stay away from Wammy's House for years at a time…

L found that he was beginning to stress slightly—but then he realized just how ridiculous he was being, and forced those intruding thoughts from his mind. He still had a long ways to go before he could even _begin_ to think about the future. There would be plenty of time to concern himself with such matters later. It would still be some time until he could think about the reality of him having to stay in Japan for the rest of his life. _No, no!_ L corrected himself. _I don't_ have _to stay, I_ want _to stay! And either way, it doesn't matter if I don't want to stay in Japan for the rest of my life—Light is here, and so here I will stay. I love him too much to leave, even if it means staying in one place forever. I'll gladly stay here for him. Without hesitation and without question._

That was it, then. L forced himself to shove everything out of his mind. He was quite tired, and wanted a chance to rest before the morning came. And so he lay back against the pillows, closed his eyes, and willed himself to drift off to sleep.

It took a long while for his breath to even out, and for his eyes to glue themselves closed. But should he have managed to keep his eyes open for just a moment longer, he would have seen a pair of brilliant green eyes, glimmering in the darkness and gazing curiously in the direction of the closet.

†††

There were five days until New Year's Eve.

That morning, when Matt awoke, he spent at least half an hour staring up at the ceiling without moving a muscle. He kept replaying the events of the previous night in his head. He'd been completely unable to fall asleep the previous night, no matter what he tried. The past few weeks had been very trying on him, both emotionally and physically—he cared deeply for L, and didn't want to lie to him…but it seemed to be the only way to end this. He'd done everything in his power to convince himself that what he was doing was correct, but as time went on, he doubted himself more and more. Was this really the right thing to do? Was killing Light really the best way out of this situation? Over the past few weeks he'd grown quite close to the teen, and the idea of killing him was just… _wrong._ He didn't _want_ to kill Light. He didn't _want_ to lie to L, and he didn't _want_ anyone to get hurt. But he'd fallen into Mello and Near's plan, and was fully supporting them despite his reluctance. Perhaps, he thought, he'd accepted that while this wasn't the plan he preferred, it was the plan that was best for L. Best for Light. Best for _everyone._

It was with those thoughts in mind that Matt had laid there, completely unable to find rest. He'd barely felt it when Mello curled up beside him, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his head in his chest. He hardly noticed when Mello's chest fell into a steady rise and fall, signifying his departure from the waking world. A few minutes later, he saw that Near's breathing had evened out as well. But as he turned his eyes on L, Matt realized suddenly that he wasn't sleeping. It wasn't really a surprise—L rarely slept—but what _was_ strange was the fact that L seemed to be _pretending_ to sleep. Normally, when L couldn't sleep, he sat up and worked on his laptop. But he'd just been lying there, breathing controlled, as if he were trying to convince anyone who looked at him that he was asleep, for _hours_. Matt thought it was strange, but he passed it off as another one of L's oddities.

That is, until the clock struck twelve, and L quietly removed himself from bed. Matt watched through narrowed eyes as the detective quietly shuffled out of the room, eyes flitting about the room, no doubt checking if any of the successors were still awake. Matt closed his eyes just long enough for L's gaze to leave him before reopening them to watch the detective fully exit the room.

After that, Matt intentionally kept himself awake just to see when L would return. What was he up to, and why had he snuck out?

About thirty minutes later, the door opened, and Watari and L entered the room carrying an armload of unidentifiable gear. Matt listened carefully through the following conversation, his eyes firmly closed so neither would notice that he was awake. It took only a few moments for Watari to wish L goodnight, then leave promptly. After that, Matt thought it would be over. He thought that L would just get into bed and fall asleep, but…after a few moments, all Matt heart was rustling, and he became suspicious. He opened his eyes just a fraction of an inch, and shifted slightly so he could see what L was doing.

The detective was staring at the pile of equipment before him, thumb pressed to his lips thoughtfully. A heartbeat later he moved to his dresser and removed a black garbage bag, then shuffled back over to the equipment. He began to sort through it, moving each item into the bag. It was so dark that Matt couldn't tell quite what he was doing, even if he strained his eyes to their fullest extent. But even though he couldn't see what L was doing, he still watched. He watched as the detective finished moving all the pieces of equipment into the garbage bag, tying off the top and moving towards the closet. Matt nearly laughed when he saw where L was hiding the garbage bag—he was acting like a teenager, hiding things he didn't want anyone else to see in his closet. He wondered what was so important that L would try to hide it in _there_ of all places.

After that, L simply stood there staring at the closet for a long while. But after a few minutes he visibly tensed, turned, and slipped into bed. It took a long while for his breath even out, for his eyes to slip closed. But finally, after what felt like forever, L drifted off to sleep, leaving Matt alone in his wakefulness.

For the rest of the night, Matt couldn't sleep.

†††

That morning, when the sun finally rose, Matt stayed in bed while everyone else got ready. L left well before six, his process of getting ready involving only brushing his teeth, running a hand through his hair, and changing into a new shirt. A few minutes later, Near got up and blinked sleep from his eyes, heading for the bathroom and turning on the shower. Ten minutes after that he emerged with soaking wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist to pick out a new pair of white pajamas. Ten minutes after _that_ he was gone, off to the investigation room. Meanwhile, Mello got up and spent a few minutes in the bathroom brushing his teeth and doing his hair. He was the type that took showers in the evenings, so his hair was perfectly dry and styled when he emerged. He dressed in leather pants, boots, and a vest.

"Matt?" he asked. He moved over to his lover quietly, settling on the bed and reaching out to stroke his hair. "Are you going to get up?"

Matt raised his head and stared up at Mello. He resisted the urge to glance towards the closet, where he knew L had hidden the garbage bag. He wanted desperately to go over and check what was in that bag. "I'll be in in a bit, Mells," he said softly. "I'm not feeling very well; I'd like to stay in bed a while longer."

Mello's brow scrunched in concern. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you? I can look after you if you're not feeling well." He cupped Matt's cheek caringly. "You don't seem to have a fever, but I could still stay. I'll get you something to eat if you want."

Matt smiled up at him, fighting the swell of doubt and nervousness in his chest. "No," he said, "You should work. I'll be fine, I just need to wake up a little." He leaned up and pressed a short kiss to Mello's lips. "I'll see you in a while, okay?"

Mello stared suspiciously as he leaned back. "You'd better call me if you feel any worse," he threatened, rising and backing up towards the door. "I'll come back here the instant you call, you hear?"

"Got it, Mells. Go catch Kira."

Mello backed up a few more steps before turning around and heading for the investigation room. The door closed softly behind him, and the sound of his boots striking the tiled hallway soon faded into nothing.

Matt waited for a few minutes to make sure Mello wasn't coming back. Then he leapt to his feet and dashed to the closet with every intention of looking at what L had tried to hide. He wrenched open the door, expecting the garbage bag to fall out, but…there was nothing. The closet was simply full of L's clothing. Nothing more, nothing less. But Matt was _sure_ that L had hidden that bag in here! Where could it be? The successor got down inside the closet on his hands and knees and crawled into the closet, running his hands over the carpet probingly. When that brought up no results he moved his search to the walls. He pulled his fingertips along the smooth walls, searching for…well, he wasn't really sure what he was searching for.

And then, he found something.

His fingertips struck a narrow slit in the wall, running about three feet up from the carpet and three feet across. Matt traced the outline with his fingers, frowning deeply. He dug his fingernails into one of the small openings and pulled with all his strength. For a moment, he felt nothing. But then, a small click met his ears, and the panel of the wall came loose. _Have I broken off a part of the wall?_ Matt thought, surprised. He gave the wall an experimental tug, and much to his surprise, it swung outwards even further. It was on a hinge. It was…

A door?

Matt squinted into the darkness of the closet. He couldn't see much, but he was certain that he'd just discovered a hidden door inside the closet. Which meant that this was almost certainly where L had stashed the garbage bag. This was worse than he thought…if L was so desperate to hide this thing, then it must be important.

Matt reached into the compartment with searching fingers. Something, distinctly plastic, crinkled beneath his touch. He hooked his fingers in the plastic and grasped the garbage bag, pulling it out of the closet. _It's heavy,_ he realized. _What the hell did L put in here?_ He hauled the bag across the carpeted ground and laid it on the bed he shared with Mello. For a long moment he simply observed the bag, not wanting to believe that it existed. It's existence alone proved that L was not okay, proved that he wasn't recovering mentally. The fact that he didn't trust the successors enough to tell them about this bag just further enforced the sad truth that he didn't trust them. He'd seemed to be getting better lately… but now it seemed that his behavior was just a part of his act. But what was that act meant to hide?

He could wait no longer to answer his burning question. Matt opened the bag, his fingers slowly pulling apart the plastic, and peered inside. The black plastic made it difficult to see just what was contained within. He frowned squinting. Then he reached inside and pulled out the first item. He held it up to the light, twisting it this way and that. It was…a safety vest? No, it was a _bulletproof vest._ From the armory. His frown deepening, Matt pulled the next item from the bag. This one was a helmet with the visor pushed up. More safety equipment. Next he withdrew padding that strapped to the arms and legs, then boots with gloves stuffed inside, then a armored belt.

Matt ran his hands over the equipment strewn about the bed. It was all safety equipment, all meant to protect the wearer. What on earth could L be doing with all this stuff? And why did he feel the need to hide it?

Was…was he planning something?

Matt's mind raced. It was possible, he reasoned, that L was withholding information. After all, he'd had that conversation with Kira without anyone else watching, which meant that he could have easily lied to the successors and the task force, and they would have believed it. And that meant that it was more than possible that he was using his hidden information to fabricate a secret plan involving this gear. But then… why did he need this stuff? The only time anyone wore something like this was when…

Oh.

Oh no… he wouldn't… would he?

Matt stared down at the equipment through new eyes. If it was true that L was withholding information and using it to make a plan, and if it was true that this equipment was a part of the plan, then the only information that L could possibly have kept secret was…

Matt closed his eyes. It was so obvious. So, terribly obvious. L… he knew where Kira was, didn't he? He knew, and he was planning on taking him on alone. Matt ran his fingertips over the bulletproof vest that suddenly held much more meaning. It was the vest that L would be wearing when he went to his death—for there was no way he could survive going after Kira on his own.

Matt began to pack the items back into the garbage bag, realizing that he needed to pack everything away before anyone came back into he room. He arranged the bag the exact way he had found it, then swiftly hauled the thing back across the carpet and shoved it back into the hidden compartment of the closet. He closed the tiny door, being sure to erase all signs of his tampering, then withdrew from the closet and closed the rather large door entirely.

For a long while after that Matt just stood in the center of the room and stared at the wall, perfectly mimicking L's behavior from the previous night. He'd thought that L was getting better. He'd thought that he was recovering mentally. But now… it looked like he was no better than the first few moments after Light had been taken away. He might as well have been the shell-shocked detective sitting on the lid of the toilet as Near wrapped bandages around his knees and dabbed at his tears. So what was he supposed to do?

He knew that L was planning on going after Kira, and that he would most likely be going alone. He had no idea when, but it would most likely have to be sometime before the New Year. That meant he had five days to act. The problem would be figuring out just when he intended to act. And what was more…

Should he… _tell_ the other successors?

He knew what would happen if he did. They would say, _wonderful, let's just follow L when he leaves. He'll lead us straight to Kira. We'll kill him there._ And they would, Matt knew. They wouldn't hesitate to kill Kira the instant they saw him. He could see it now—the successors would follow L to Kira's location and wait for the two of them to meet face to face. Then they would strike. They would barge into the room, drawing a stunned, horrified expression to L's face. Matt would be the one to go to L and restrain him, holding him back against the wall. He would kick and struggle with all his might, but he wouldn't stand a chance. Matt would hold him fast, and L would be forced to watch as Mello and Near held their guns on Kira and pulled the trigger. Afterwards, Kira's body would strike the ground, blood pooling around him as he convulsed on his way to the afterlife. L would scream, horrified, and Matt would release him so that he could run to his lover's body. Near and Mello would stand back, cold and impassive, and wait for L to finish sobbing. And once he did, once the final tear had dried on his flesh, they would pry him away from Kira's body, overcoming his screaming and mindless thrashing and forcing him away from the corpse of the one he loved so dearly. After that, L would hate them. He'd despise them for months, for years, until one day, he would finally meet with them again, and the words of forgiveness would be exchanged. L would never be the same, though. There would always be a hint of sadness in those obsidian eyes, sadness that could be traced back to the bones of Kira, decorating the earth of his final resting place.

Could Matt do that to L? Could he just…let Kira die? Let _Light_ die?

It took a long time of thinking. Matt lost track of time as he stood, his legs eventually beginning to tingle and go numb.

When he finally left the room, nearly two hours later, he had a plan of his own.

†††

On the fifth evening before the New Year, L's plan came to fruition.

It was easy, easier than L predicted. The task force headed home earlier than usual, and after that, L's plan was set in motion.

First, he called Misa. At five o'clock, just as he'd promised, he contacted Misa Amane and led her through security and to the hidden bunker. She deposited the gun into said bunker, and that was that. Yet another stage of his plan had been carried out flawlessly.

Next, L went up to the kitchen under the pretense of wishing to procure cake. Once there, he removed a teacup from one of the cabinets, swiftly fixing up a serving of Watari's favorite tea. His eyes flitted up at the security camera directly in front of him nervously. He had no doubt that Watari was watching. And so when he removed a vial of sedative from his pocket, punctured the lid, and poured half of it into the tea, he made sure that his back was carefully shielding himself from the camera's view. He knew that the sedative was tasteless, so there was no way that Watari would figure out what L was up to until it was too late to stop him.

After he prepared the tea, L left it in the microwave so it wouldn't become cold. Then he headed over to the cabinet and snatched one of the chocolate bars from Mello's stash. He carefully unwrapped it and spread half a vial of sedative over the chocolate, swiftly rewrapping it a moment later. After that, he grabbed a pastry from the cupboard and repeated the process. And after _that_ he prepared another cup of tea, repeating the process yet again. That was it—he had everything he needed. But first…

L spread out his four syringes on the counter and paired each one with the remaining half-vials of sedative. He drew the remainder of the substance from each vial into corresponding syringe, then tucked the syringes under his shirt and disposed of the empty vials. Now he was ready.

First, L headed to Watari. He piled everything he'd prepared onto a serving tray and went up to the surveillance room.

"L?" Watari asked, turning his chair around to watch the dark-haired detective as he entered the room..

"Hello, Watari," L responded calmly. He moved to Watari's side and set the serving tray down on the desktop, reaching for one of the cups of tea and handing it to the inventor. "I made you tea. I admit, I feel quite bad for my actions over the past few months. I realize that I've caused you a great deal of trouble, and I want to begin to make up for it."

Watari smiled warmly. "You're correct in that regard, L. You've caused me a stunning amount of complications over the past few months." He took the offered teacup and held it in both hands. He didn't drink from it, much to L's irritation.

"Yes," L agreed, stalling for time until Watari took a drink. Ingesting the sedative orally would knock the inventor out, but it wouldn't be for very long, and it wouldn't be very effective. That was why he'd only provided half a dose in the tea—once Watari took a drink and began to fall asleep, L would inject him with the remainder of the dose. This way was safer. If L just outright injected him, then there was every possibility that he'd contact the successors before passing out, thus alerting them that something was amiss. And after that, L wouldn't be able to execute his plan; the successors would be watching too carefully to be fooled. "I thought that I should begin to make reparations, so I made you a cup of tea."

The old inventor offered L a small smile. "How thoughtful, L." He paused to take a sip, and L's stomach flipped excitedly.

It was working! It was really working! L waited for Watari to slump over, but it wasn't that easy—it would take a few minutes for the drug to go into effect.

"You know," Watari went on, drinking more of his tea, "I was afraid that you weren't going to come to your senses."

"Wait…come to my senses?"

Watari frowned. "Well, yes. You've been quite out of it lately."

"My mental health has been steadily increasing," L said hurriedly.

Watari chuckled, "Don't try to lie to me, L. I've known you since you were five; I think I can tell when you're only _pretending_ to be okay. But now, today, you seem…focused. Like you've finally found your path." He offered L a warm smile, taking another sip. "You've had a rough life, L, and I wish that I could have done more to help you through that life. Over these past few weeks especially, I feared that you might have been damaged too severely to repair. But now, it seems that you might finally be about to recover."

Oh, how wrong he was. "Yes, I think I am beginning to recover as well."

"Good." Watari took another drink. "I'm glad that you…" he paused. Then he slumped to one side, raising a hand to his head. He set his cup of tea down on the table, murmuring, "Ah…I'm feeling a bit under the weather all of the sudden…"

L, sensing the impending collapse, darted forward and placed his hands on his former mentor's shoulders. "Are you okay?" he asked, though he knew full well that Watari was not okay.

"I'll be fine…" the inventor murmured, eyes clouding over. "I just need…" He trailed off.

A moment later, his head struck the desk, and his whole body lurched to on side, barely steadied by L's firm grasp.

A moment after _that,_ L darted forward and jammed the needle of the syringe into the inventor's neck, compressing the plunger forcefully. Watari showed no signs of waking up, even as L gently lowered him to the ground. Good…this would keep him sedated for a good couple of hours. That would be all he needed in order for his plan to work.

After that, L quietly took the serving tray in hand and headed down to the investigation room.

He had a conversation with the successors, but his stomach was twisting and turning so nervously that he barely understood what they were saying. He just smiled and nodded, and said what was required of him. He handed a cup of tea to Matt, the chocolate bar to Mello, and the pastry to Near, hoping that they would take the bait. He explained to them what he'd explained to Watari—that he felt bad for causing so much trouble, and wanted to begin to make amends. He was sure to add just a hint of sheepishness and embarrassment to his tone for good measure. If they thought he really felt bad, they wouldn't question his intentions.

There were a few more minutes of talking, and then Mello began to eat the chocolate bar provided by L. A moment after that, Near started nibbling at his pastry. A few minutes after _that,_ the both of them showed signs of drowsiness.

"Woah…" Mello murmured, swaying in his seat. "I don't feel so good…"

"Yes," Near agreed in a low whisper. "I feel rather tired…"

Matt, L noted, hadn't touched his tea. He almost seemed _suspicious_ of it, as if he knew what L was planning. But that was impossible. There was no way he'd figured it out…right?

L was drawn from his thoughts as he heard a loud thump. It appeared that Mello had fallen asleep, and had just descended rather unceremoniously from his chair. A moment later, another thump followed as Near crashed to the ground. L hid a triumphant smile. The drug was stronger than he hoped. They'd gone down without a fight. And now, the only problem was—

"Mello! Near!" Matt gasped, lurching to his feet and moving to their sides worriedly. He dropped to his knees beside his companions, shaking them harshly. "Come on, wake up! What the hell…?" He turned back to L. "L, get over here and help! No, wait—call Watari! He'll know what to do!"

L wasted no time. He moved up behind Matt, withdrew the three remaining syringes from beneath his shirt, and plunged one of the needles into Matt's neck.

"…L!" he rasped out, eyes glimmering with horror as he realized what was happening. But even as he raised a hand, clearly intending to fight, it was too late. He sagged into L's hold, and the older detective lowered the younger to the ground caringly. It took only a few heartbeats for him to repeat the process with Mello and Near, and it took even less time for their breathing to even out entirely as they fell into a deep sleep. Not all had gone to plan thus far…because Matt hadn't consumed his tea, he'd only received half a dose of sedative. And unfortunately, L didn't have the time to run up to the infirmary to retrieve more. He'd just have to hope that Matt didn't wake up prematurely. And even if he did, L reasoned, it wouldn't matter. Matt would have no idea where he was going, so there was no way he should be able to follow him. And with that thought in mind, L rose and stepped away from the sleeping forms of his successors, heading for the elevator.

After that, it was simple.

L retrieved his gear from the compartment in the closet. He put it all on, made sure the bullet was secure in his necklace, and headed for the door. The halls were eerily quiet as he went, the lights dimmed just enough so that the shadows had enough light to flicker and dance like dark flames. The boots made his footsteps too loud. The sounds echoed around the empty halls, bouncing around him endlessly until he reached the door of the building. L stopped for a moment, the echoes taking longer than they should have to fade. Then there was silence, and he was staring at the door. He turned his head for a moment to look back into the darkened rooms of the building, questioning his plan wordlessly. He wasn't a fool. Even with the bullet, he knew there was a very strong possibility that he would die this night. And he had made his peace with that. He regretted, of course. He regretted many things. He regretted dragging his successors into this mess. He regretted not tracking Beyond down after he escaped capture during the Los Angeles BB Murder Case. He regretted not being smart enough to catch Beyond before he had a chance to hurt Light in the first place.

He regretted, and he lamented over those regrets. He wished he could snap his fingers and go back in time, even if it would cost him his own life. Then he could stop this from ever happening.

But that wasn't going to happen. And here L was, hand on the door, pushing it open and leaving the headquarters. It was dark out. The moon was small in the sky, washing the outside world in a very dim, silvery light. L walked in slow motion to the bushes near the entrance and pushed them aside, for they were fake and hiding something beneath. It took L only a moment to push the dirt away with his hands, revealing the handle of a door in the ground. A few twists and turns had the lock falling away, a single tug sent the rest of the dust and dirt flying up in clouds, spilling down into the bunker and up into the sky, billowing about in a gritty cloud. L flicked on the lights as he climbed down the small ladder leading to the bunker. Once inside, he headed to the desk and opened the first drawer.

There it was. There, on top of a stack of dusty papers, was a gun. A simple handgun, the apparatus dented, battered but still functional. Misa had come through for him. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to save Light. L picked up the handgun and ran his fingers over the muzzle. He removed the clip and found it fully loaded. A flick of his wrist emptied all the bullets into his other hand, and he tucked those bullets away in the pocket of his vest. He popped the compartment in his necklace open with one smooth movement, removing the bullet and slipping it into place. One, singular bullet. The bullet fit perfectly into the gun it was being loaded into—and L had a suspicion that the King's power would easily change the bullet's shape so that it would fit into any gun he pleased.

L snapped his amulet closed, mindful of the Death Note page still within, and secured the clip back in place, making sure the safety was still on. This was his only shot; he wasn't going to waste it. Then he climbed back out into the night air, drawing in a deep breath as he slammed the bunker door shut and scraped earth back over it. He set the bushes back in place carefully.

"Now, then," L said aloud, heading out to the roadside. "There is approximately an eighty-nine percent chance that having heard the conversation I had with Misa, Rem will have figured out what I am attempting to do, and will follow me." He looked around hesitantly. He couldn't see the shinigami, but she could easily be nearby or on her way. Perhaps she was waiting with Kira, waiting for L to arrive—or maybe she wasn't coming at all. "Rem?" he called out, half expecting her to materialize out of thin air. However, she did not appear, making L feel only slightly like a complete idiot who stood on the street and talked to himself. Luckily, it was so late that there weren't many people around.

L took off down the street, walking briskly towards the hotel Kira was residing in. It was only a few blocks away from the headquarters, and L would much rather walk and blend in with the few people still walking the streets at this hour.

As L's shoes struck the pavement, he thought he heard something. He frowned, pausing and cocking his head to one side curiously, lips parting slightly in order to catch the noise.

After a few moments the sound still hadn't repeated itself, and L frowned, slowly beginning to move again. Funny…

It had almost sounded like a bell.

 **Ooh, things are heating up! The next chapter is one of my favorites…seriously, I'm super stoked about it. I've been building up the story all this time, and now I actually get to** _ **do**_ **something with it! Hell yeah!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you're still with me then please leave me a review!**


	21. The Broken Path

**Welcome to chapter twenty-one. Yeah...some shit went down today, and I haven't been doing too well mentally, so if my chapters are a tiny bit shorter over the next two/three updates I hope you understand. If I hadn't edited this chapter beforehand, I don't think I would have been able to post. But do not fear; no matter what happens, no matter what life throws my way, I will finish posting this story. No doubts about it. Scout's honor.**

 **Also, I realize that I posted on Monday instead of Tuesday this week. It was a bit of a mental lapse on my part, and I could explain how and why it happened, but I don't think its important.** **On a happier note, my thanks go out to those of you who have reviewed, and those of you who are just following along and enjoying my story. I lack the energy to be all happy-go-lucky at the moment, and add tons of explanation marks after every other word, but still...you have my thanks.**

 **Chapter 21: The Broken Path**

When L reached the Teito Hotel he was greeted with the feeling of something being undeniably, inexplicably _wrong._ He stood outside the double doors, gazing past the murky glass, and could see nothing. No lights, no movement... nothing. He reached out one hand hesitantly and grasped the handle of one of the doors. He pulled experimentally, and the door opened slightly with a loud creak. This was odd... the hotel should not be closed. Hotels didn't close. So why was it so lifeless? L felt a gush of wind push at his back, as if nature itself were urging him to enter the building. He shot a glance over his shoulder. The sky was dark and cloudy, as it had been when he left the headquarters, but now thunder rumbled in the distance. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. L shivered as watery flakes of snow began to drift down from the heavens. The ground began to fill with tiny dots of water as the flakes melted—it was not yet cold enough for the flakes to hold their form.

 _This is certainly ominous..._ L thought, running a hand through his hair, which was being peppered with swiftly melting crystals of ice. He pulled on the door a bit more, wincing as the hinges shrieked. This, too, was strange. A hotel as high quality as this one shouldn't have squeaky hinges. He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind, checking for the hundredth time to make sure the gun with the all-powerful bullet was still holstered at his belt. Then he adjusted his helmet, checked the safety on his gun, took a deep breath, and entered the hotel.

It was cold inside, as if the heat had been left off for a very long time. The front desk was deserted, and the lights were completely off. _Weird..._ L approached the desk and peered behind it, searching in the darkness for the book that contained the names and room numbers of all guests staying in the hotel. His fingers drifted over the desk blindly; it was so dark that he could barely see his hands in front of him. L frowned, rummaging around in the desk drawers until his fingers brushed a cardboard box. A tentative shake of said box confirmed L's suspicions—he was holding a box of matches. His other hand roamed across the desk until he located a metal disc. Above the disc there was a long, cylindrical object that terminated in a rough-feeling wick. One of the decorative candles. L struck a match and lit it sloppily. There was a brief hiss and the faint smell of smoke, then a sudden flare of light that illuminated the desktop and everything around it. L pocketed the small box of matches and moved the candle to the center of the desk. Now... he needed the logbook. He already knew that Kira was in room 1313, but he wanted to see, just to be sure, what the murderer had put down when he was checking in. L searched the desktop with careful eyes, seeking out the book.

Ah, there it was! L reached out and picked up the black book, which had been tucked neatly by the computer. He flipped open the book to the last marked page, and scanned the page nervously.

 _Clang! Clatter!_

L whipped his head up and spun around fearfully, hand darting to his gun. His gaze flitted over the room before him, coming to rest on the slight twitch of movement in the darkness across the room to his right. L slowly moved one hand to grasp the candle, holding it up so that it illuminated the darkened area. The space to the right of the reception desk housed a large marble staircase covered with a soft looking red carpet. A staircase just like it existed on the left side, the two sets of stairs connecting in a large balcony above the reception desk. Presumably there was an elevator located up in that area, along with chairs and tables for relaxation. But L couldn't care less about that at the moment. All he cared about was the sight of a glass jar as it bounced and rolled down the carpeted stairs to his right and hit the marble floor with a resounding crack. L tucked the logbook under one arm and slowly began to move towards the jar, candle held aloft. The dull light of the flame made the shadows dance on the walls around him, making the whole place seem much creepier than it really was.

L reached the jar and knelt beside it. His heart leapt into his throat. It was a glass jar just small enough for him to wrap his fingers around. A stick line of red trailed down the stairs and across the floor from where the contents of the jar had spilled. Small splatters of the stuff painted the carpet where it had bounced, displacing the substance within. L righted the jar and dipped one finger inside, raising the substance to that it was just under his nose. He inhaled deeply, and—

Jam. It was jam.

Bile rose in L's throat as he swiftly wiped his sticky finger on his pants. He felt a sense of dread rise within him, overriding the feeling of hope he'd been harboring. Did this mean that he had miscalculated? Was Beyond back? But no, it couldn't be! Rem would have told him if Beyond had returned, she'd said that she would get in contact if anything changed! There was no way that Beyond was here!

...Right?

It occurred to L that he hadn't yet seen Rem. Where was she? L placed the candle on the ground beside the jar as he pulled out the black notebook tucked beneath his arm. He reopened it to the last page that had been written on and went back to scanning the names. They were all normal, all strangers, until—

There... the very last name on the page, written in bright red ink as opposed to the others, which were written in dark blue or black. _Light Yagami._ L frowned at the use of his lover's name. No doubt Kira had wanted to prevent a stir by using Light's name rather than his own. It wouldn't exactly go well if someone walked into a hotel and checked in using the name 'Kira.' But still…how had this escaped the gaze of the successors? They were constantly checking every hotel, every apartment complex to see if anyone suspicious checked in—and someone using the name _Light Yagami_ definitely counted as suspicious _._ Perhaps, L thought darkly, Kira had erased Light's name from the system, and it was just written in the logbook rather than stored in the computer. But still…why take the chance? What did it mean, and what was he playing at?

There was no time for such questions. L's eyes raked the room number written beside Light's name, double checking what he already knew, and it was just as he'd suspected. Room 1313. How symbolic. Kira was taking a page out of Beyond's book. Or rather, _B.B's_ book. L was reminded of the B.B. Murder Cases, and shuddered. This case wouldn't turn out like that one. He wouldn't let Beyond escape again, and he would do everything in his power to end Kira.

L left the book on the ground next to the jar of jam. He stood with the candle in his hand and took a quick look around the room. He spotted a metal box attached to the wall behind the reception desk, and he moved to examine it. He opened the front of the box and peered inside. It looked like the circuit board for the hotel. A circuit board that had been mangled horribly, the wires behind the switches and levers forcibly pulled loose and cut. So that was why it was so cold and dark... the power had been cut. No doubt Kira had been the one to do it. Which, of course, brought L right back to wondering why no one had noticed what was going on in the hotel. It was, after all, a very nice, very busy hotel. It was hard to believe that no one had noticed what was going on here.

Another noise sounded from upstairs. L didn't jump this time, though he felt a spike of fear shoot through him. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was perfectly capable of handling whatever was making those noises. With that in mind, he headed up the staircase, carefully maneuvering around the sticky trail of jam. His feet felt confined and uncomfortable in the heavy boots, and the things were making embarrassingly loud sounds as they thumped against the carpet. L found himself worrying about being detected, but…

Unless something had gone horribly wrong, Kira shouldn't know that L was coming for him. But it was just a little too hard to pass that jar of jam off as a coincidence. L was going to have to be careful, just in case his hand had been tipped. Just in case Kira had done the impossible and discovered his plan.

L continued up the staircase until he reached the large, elegantly furnished area that sat above the reception desk. It was a foyer-like area, with beautiful paintings lining the walls. The walls themselves were painted a deep gold that perfectly complimented the red velvet and dark stained wood of the furniture. In terms of said furniture, there were three small tables spread out around the area, each surrounded by three beautiful red velvet chairs framed by intricately carved deep brown oak frames. The tables were made of the same dark oak, circular in shape and covered partially by a crisp white tablecloth. On each table sat a tall vase of silky scarlet roses and one decorative candle identical to the one L was holding. The detective lit all three candles swiftly. Then his eyes raked the center table one more time, and his blood ran cold.

For on the table closest to the elevators, the one sitting between two others, there sat a wooden bowl that was not on the other tabletops. And in that bowl, light brown and etched with a pattern of leaves, there sat several bright red apples. L slowly approached the bowl, setting his candle aside in favor of picking up one of the apples. They were fresh, clearly no more than a day old, the firm red flesh of the fruit still bright and glossy. L's fingers skimmed over the apples in the bowl until he reached a small slip of white visible between the fruit. He tugged once, and a white card slipped forth. A singular white index card, with a singular black symbol printed in black ink on the front.

The letter L, in gothic font.

Kira knew he was coming.

The jar of jam he could have brushed off, but this? No…somehow Kira had figured it out. L dropped the card as if it were poisoned, hand returning to his candle. He controlled his breathing carefully, heading for the staircase leading to the rooms. The elevator would be down since the power was out, and L wouldn't trust it even if it were running. After all, it was clear that Kira had orchestrated all of this.

L could be heading to his death.

Maybe... maybe he should have left a note for the successors. Maybe he should have left them a location from which to retrieve his body. Better yet, maybe he should just turn around and flee this building before it was too late. But no—this was L's only chance to confront Kira alone. He didn't know that L had the bullet, and he didn't think that L would _dare_ to shoot him. He was still at the advantage. He could still do this…right?

L maneuvered the candle to his other hand and began his long ascent to room 1313.

For all L's careful observation and deductive skills, his carefully trained eyes did not notice the red-eyed man who slipped past him in the darkness, his black hair and clothing perfectly melding into the shadows. The man, Beyond Birthday, paused just long enough to glare at L, a demented grin on his face, before turning and slinking towards the door to the outside.

†††

Matt's eyes fluttered open. For a heartbeat he laid there, green orbs focused on the ceiling. Then he groaned, raising a hand to rub at his eyes beneath the goggles, which felt far too heavy. In fact, everything felt too heavy… god, what was wrong with him? He was so damn sluggish…

He slowly pushed himself up to lean against whatever surface was behind him. It looked like a wall, he noted. The wall…of the investigation room? He'd fallen asleep in the investigation room? He frowned, clenching and unclenching his fingers rhythmically to shake the stiffness from his bones as he struggled to remember how he'd ended up where he was. His mind wasn't working the way it usually did, but even in his disoriented state he knew that something was wrong. Matt slowly turned his gaze downwards. He immediately felt both better and worse when he saw Mello sleeping beside him, his blonde hair spilled out over the ground, his whole form bathed in moonlight.

Wait… moonlight?

Matt shot to his feet, no longer groggy. He looked around wildly to confirm his suspicions—and it was just as he'd feared. His heart sank as he realized that both Mello and Near were collapsed a few feet from him, and both sported very visible puncture wounds in their necks. Raising a hand, Matt felt a similar wound adorning his own throat, and he immediately remembered. He remembered L's plan, the food he'd brought the successors after everyone else had left, the way that Mello and Near had suddenly felt dizzy and disorientated. And he remembered leaping to his feet when they collapsed, rushing to their sides only to be met with a painless prick of steel at his neck and a rush of fluid entering his veins. He'd been drugged. _L_ had drugged him. He'd drugged _all_ the successors. Matt reached down and shook Mello harshly, testing if he was ready to awaken. "Mells, wake up!"

The boy didn't even stir, and had Matt not been able to feel the rise and fall of his chest against him, he may have feared that he was dead. "Come on, Mello!" he tried again. When the blonde still didn't stir, he darted over to Near. The white-haired boy was lying flat on his stomach, stretched out over the ground. "Near? Near, can you hear me? Wake up! L is _gone_ you idiot, you need to wake up!"

The first ranked successor didn't move, or even groan.

Matt rolled Near over onto his back and slapped his face lightly, then harder when he still received no response. Nothing.

Matt mulled over the day's events in his mind, trying to rationalize why he'd awoken sooner than his companions. He recalled how kind L had been to them that day. He'd brought Mello a chocolate bar from the kitchen, provided Near with a pastry, and prepared tea for Matt. But after finding out about L's stash of police gear and his crazy plan to go find Light, Matt hadn't been able to stomach anything due to his nervousness. He hadn't touched his tea. Mello and Near, on the other hand, had eagerly consumed L's offerings, seeing no reason not to.

So it had been a heavy does of sedative in the food, then. No… more likely L had hit them with light doses in the food, then more of the stuff once they were knocked out. That would explain why Matt was awake now—since he hadn't consumed the food, he'd only gotten a small dose when L injected him with the stuff.

But no matter what had happened, the result was the same. L was gone, and the successors were knocked out. And if Watari hadn't yet come in to sound the alarm, then he was almost certainly knocked out too. The task force had gone home, and even if he called them, they would be too late. L's blunder in administering the sedatives only bought Matt a few hours more of awareness than he would have had otherwise. A glance at the clock told him that it was around three in the morning. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep. L could be dead by now.

There was only one thing he could do. Matt pushed open the door and headed for the weapons room. Grabbed a gun. Then stormed off for the exit.

When Matt dashed out onto the streets, it was snowing. The ground was covered in fine powder that was still being spat from the sky, the light flakes dusting his hair white within seconds. The successors shook his head furiously, adjusting his goggles. It was dangerously cold, but he had his vest on, and as long as L was in danger, he didn't think he could feel the frost if he wanted to. L had not been here recently. There were no footsteps in the light coat of snow, and no people around at all. It was odd, the lack of people walking the streets. It wasn't _that_ late.

Matt looked both ways, pondering where L could have run off to. There was really no way to tell without some of clue. The truth was, if L didn't want to be found, he wasn't going to be found. It was that simple. And if there wasn't going to be some sign from above, Matt was just going to have to pick a direction and start searching. He turned to the left and started to walk, then stopped suddenly.

The breeze pushed harshly at his front, increasing in strength when he attempted another step forward. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, urging him to turn around. And Matt, though never one to believe superstitious theories and gut feelings, turned around. Felt the wind push at his back. And then moved in the direction the wind pushed him.

He kept going for what felt like forever. In reality, it couldn't have been more than a few minutes—but the biting cold paired with the swell of nervousness in his stomach was more than enough to make time slow to a crawl. The snow was freezing, pelting him harder and harder with every step he took, as if the weather itself were against him. The shadows were long on the ground, dancing and flickering as show fell in front of the streetlights that conjured them. _Go back,_ those shadows whispered. _Leave now,_ that snow snarled. _You are not welcome here. You are interfering with something that is not yours to interfere with._ The voices of the world around him combined into a frightening howl, screaming in his ear, ordering him to turn tail and run back home—or perhaps that was just the howl of the wind, picking up around him painfully, driving him harder and harder in what could very easily have been the wrong direction.

But still, despite the warnings coming from all around him, Matt would not go back. He had to get to L, he had to get to _Light._ He cursed L for drugging them and acting before Matt was ready. He'd had a plan—and it had been a very good plan.

…Actually, no, it hadn't.

His plan had been foolish and stupid, and no better than L's. He'd planned to wait until L left, then follow him to Kira. After that, he intended to…well…what had he intended to do? He wasn't really sure, in all honesty. All he knew was that he could not, under any circumstances, allow the other successors to get to Kira first. They would kill him without question, and he couldn't allow that. And so in his haste to make sure L wasn't caught by Mello and Near, he'd failed to put together an adequate plan. All he knew was that he would be at L's side no matter what he chose to do, and that he would help him do whatever he wanted to do. It didn't matter what L did, Matt would be there for him. He owed him that, at least, for helping him save Mello from Beyond all those years ago. For that, Matt knew, he would follow L blindly into anything. That was his plan, he supposed—to do what L asked, no matter what it was, to pay him back for everything he'd done for him. Near and Mello seemed to have forgotten just how much L had helped them over the years, just how caring he'd been to them, just how hard he'd tried to keep them safe. They were so eager to give up, so eager to kill Kira without so much as an attempt at saving Light. But Matt wouldn't allow Light to die, not now. L had a plan…L would find a way to save Light! And Matt would help; he would do anything for L!

 _Of course,_ Matt thought, his shoes scraping through the gathering snow, _that isn't the best mindset. L isn't exactly stable at the moment, so he might not even have a plan. I could easily be walking into a death trap, even now. There's no telling what will happen if I find L now. It could already be too late…but I have to try. L could be hurt somewhere, or he could still be fighting Kira. And if Beyond has already come back from England, then there's going to be trouble. I have no doubt that the two of them will gang up on L if they have the chance. That means that I_ have _to get to them,_ now!

Matt continued his brisk march through the snow, heading down the street determinedly, when—

…Something caught his attention. Frowning, Matt drew to a halt and stared up at the building that had caught his attention. Something about it…it was different. The air around the building sung with tension, with the promise of hell to come. There was something terribly, horribly wrong with this place, and Matt could sense it in the air, in the way the hotel whispered to him. _Stay away,_ it snarled. _Don't come in here; you don't belong!_ Matt took a step towards the building and stared up at the huge letters adorning the front, squinting through the storm to see just what he was looking at.

The Teito Hotel.

Matt stood in the growing layer of snow, craning his neck to stare up at the top of the huge building. His feet were cold, he realized. He shuffled them uncomfortably as he stared at the hotel. He had an odd feeling about this place—and that was putting it lightly. Such a high quality hotel was normally bristling with customers, but now it seemed empty, desolate. Even at this time of night, _some_ lights should be on. There should be a receptionist.

Matt adjusted his goggles slightly. His fingers twitched as he struggled to keep them still. He shuffled up to the door and tugged on the handle. It opened, much to his surprise, with a terrible screeching noise.

The wind had stopped pushing at his back.

Matt gathered his wits and stepped into the hotel. It was cold, but not as cold as it was outside. He shook his head, sending flakes of watery snow spraying out over the floor. The dark red carpet turned even darker as the water splattered it, matching the dim atmosphere inside the hotel. It was almost completely dark in the lobby, the only light coming from the moonlight spilling through the windows.

No, wait—that wasn't right. There, on the balcony above the reception desk—several candles flickered with dim light, casting ink-like shadows across the large room. Someone had been here, Matt realized, and recently. It shouldn't have been that surprising, seeing as this was the _Teito Hotel,_ but…this place seemed completely deserted. No one was at the reception desk, and the whole place screamed foul play. Something had gone on here, something treacherous. Why else would this place be so deserted?

Matt hesitantly moved further into the lobby, eyeing the space around him nervously. There was every possibility that this was a trap. But then again, there was every possibility that he was in the wrong place. After all, this could just be a coincidence, and Kira could be somewhere else entirely. But he had a feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, that this was the right place. And when he moved even further into the room, his suspicions were confirmed.

There…by the staircase…there was a jar of jam.

The contents had splattered out over the white marble and red carpet, but it was undeniably a container meant to hold jam. _Strawberry_ jam. And that could only mean one thing— _Beyond._ Beyond…was he here? Or had Kira just planted this here as a distraction from something else, something greater?

One thing was for sure—Matt was in the right place.

He stepped forward with cautious, careful movements, inching across the room. He was well aware that here, in the open, he was a sitting duck. He had to get to the stairs, find cover.

Thunder suddenly roared from the outside world, making the whole building shake. Matt jumped involuntarily, hand shooting to his gun for just a heartbeat before he realized that his attacker was not an attacker at all, and was, in fact, a part of nature. He realized, though, that he hadn't seen the lightning that was supposed to come before the thunder. He frowned, some childish part of him making him look up at the windows in hopes to see a bolt of lightning. And then, suddenly, there it was. A bolt of lightning split the sky, sending a momentary burst of light flooding through the darkened atmosphere of the hotel.

It was just enough to illuminate a shadow of movement in Matt's peripheral vision, and this time when he jumped it was for good reason, because he _knew_ that something was there. Some _one_ was there.

A moment later, it happened again.

A moment after that, another flash of lightning ripped the sky apart—and this time, the flash of light was just enough for Matt to spot the shadow of something flying through the air. And that something just so happened to be aimed directly at his head.

Matt gasped as the thing flew towards him, throwing himself to the ground just as it whistled past just where his head wouldn't been a moment before. The object hit the ground at the foot of the stairs and shattered, sending glimmering fragments of glass across the ground. Matt rolled once, twice, to make sure there wasn't another projectile on its way, then lurched to his feet unsteadily. His head spun as he turned swiftly, trying to locate the source of what had been thrown at him. As he searched for his assailant, his eyes raked over the base of the stairs, where he spotted the fragments of what looked suspiciously like a jam jar. Matt's heart sank.

"Beyond?" he called out hesitantly.

A horrifyingly familiar laugh echoed around the room, and a heartbeat later, another jar swished past his head. It shattered on the corner of the desk. Clearly Beyond hadn't really been aiming for him that time, otherwise he would most likely already be passed out on the floor due to a harsh blow to the head. And now he _knew_ it was Beyond, for it could only have been him that laughed in that cackling way as the jar was thrown.

"Show yourself!" Matt cried out, drawing his gun and leveling it in the direction the jar had come from. "Don't play your games with me, Beyond! It's your fault that this all happened!"

Another laugh. "Ah, yes!" came the unmistakable voice of the black-haired psychopath. "I suppose that it _has_ been my fault, hasn't it? It's been quite entertaining to create this mess and watch you _step in it._ "

Matt thought he heard footsteps, but the sound reverberated endlessly, making it impossible to figure out where Beyond was. "Why are you here?" Matt demanded. "You're supposed to be in England! And where is L?"

"You didn't really think that I'd stay in England when my lover _needed_ me, did you?" he crowed. "The moment I heard Kira's plan, I caught the first flight back here and went running to his side. My little god missed me dearly, just as I missed him! Our reunion was so very passionate, fiery, _intense—_ "

"Enough!" Matt snapped. "Tell me where L is!"

"By now I'm sure he's nearing the fourth floor on his way to room 1313, making his way right into Kira's arms!"

Something clattered to Matt's right. He whirled around immediately, the muzzle of his gun pointed towards the source of the sound. He slowly inched towards the stairs, well aware that he was being stalled intentionally. He had no doubt that Beyond was here to catch any backup that L might have brought, or anyone that might be following him. Matt fell smack in the middle of that second category, and he was acutely aware of it. "Doesn't that make you jealous?" he asked, attempting to divert Beyond's attention away from his slow ascent up the stairs. If he was fast enough, he could lure the murderer into the stairwell, and then he would have no way to dodge or deflect the bullets Matt planned to send his way. "What if Kira decides he likes L more than you?"

Something flew by Matt's ear and imbedded itself in the wooden railing behind him, sending a trickle of warm liquid dripping down the side of his face from a small slice in his ear. Beyond had graduated from throwing jars, if the knife sticking out of the wooden railing had anything to say about it.

"Stop trying to fool me!" Beyond snarled. "Stop trying to _provoke_ me!"

Footsteps sounded very suddenly, right behind Matt, a short way up the staircase. He barely had time to turn before Beyond was slashing at him with the knife he'd just plucked from the wood of the staircase's railing. The blade whirred past him, then came slashing back inches from his neck. Matt immediately brought his gun up and aimed it point-blank at Beyond. The gun went off explosively, just as Beyond gripped his wrist and forced the shot up into the ceiling.

 _Oh, shit._ Matt's arm snapped up to defend himself as Beyond, still tightly gripping his wrist, used his free hand to stab at him blindly. The blade struck Matt's raised forearm harshly. Blood spattered the ground in sickening amounts. Beyond slashed again, and this time Matt narrowly avoided the blow by twisting to one side and wrenching his wrist from the monster's grasp. He backpedaled down the stairs with his slashed arm held tightly to his chest. It wasn't too deep, but it could cause problems if it remained unbound—blood was already soaking the sleeve of his shirt, dripping wherever he moved like a scarlet breadcrumb trail. The successor raised his gaze to Beyond, looking away from his wound, and he saw him clearly for the first time.

Red eyes. Heartless, soulless red eyes. The too-large eyes of a shinigami staring at him from a mortal body. Beyond's gaze was cold and unforgiving, his clothing stained with scarlet from his past victims. His black shirt was even blacker in areas where Matt's blood had spattered onto it.

There were no words exchanged before Matt's next move. He raised his gun and fired, once, twice, three times. Beyond's immediate response was to drop to the ground and roll, which must have been painful on the steep staircase, but he didn't' show it. The muzzle of the gun followed him constantly, but the combination of Beyond's finesse and Matt's slashed arm made him an impossible target to hit.

"Hold still!" Matt hissed furiously, switching the safety on and flipping his gun around, charging at Beyond and using it as a club. He only had a few bullets left in the clip before he had to reload—no doubt that was when Beyond planned to attack him. Beyond's eyes glinted as he neared. Close-range combat was what Beyond specialized in, and Matt was giving him exactly what he wanted. The amber-haired successor just had to hope that he could beat Beyond at his own game.

Matt swung the hilt of his gun at Beyond's head; the murderer responded with a dodge and a slash at his throat. Matt whirled to one side and swept his leg at Beyond in an attempt to knock him down; the psychopath jumped over Matt's leg and delivered a solid punch to the left side of his face. Beyond didn't wait for Matt to make another move. He lunged forward when the successor was still reeling and swept his legs out from under him in a mockery of the move Matt had just attempted. The successor hit the ground with a gasp, rolling instinctively just before Beyond's knife imbedded itself in the red carpet where his head had been resting seconds prior. Matt was on his feet a heartbeat later, resuming the fight with a roar and a furious swing at Beyond's neck.

Beyond parried, Matt struck; Beyond struck, Matt parried. The two whirled and turned in their deadly dance, each giving and taking an equal amount of ground. Any onlooker would have cried at the beautiful sight of their battle, the way the black-haired man flowed back and forth between attack and defense, the way the brown-haired teen skirted the attacks on toes lighter than those of the most talented dancer. Two beings in deadly harmony, a bloody dance routine. Bruises appeared on snow-white skin. Red splattered the walls. Clothing was ripped, insults snapped back and forth, lives nearly lost.

And as the two carried out their theatrical performance, their violent routine on a blood-slicked stage, there was another confrontation taking place far, far above their heads.

†††

The door was open, and L was staring into the hotel room. He had half expected this room to be just as dark as the rest of the hotel, but it was surprisingly luminous. This particular hotel room, room 1313, had three rooms—a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The living room connected to a short hallway leading to the door. Unfortunately, the hallway was set in such a way that you couldn't see into the living room until you reached the end of it and turned. There was no way for L to tell ahead of time who was waiting for him—though he suspected he already knew. His mind flickered back to the gothic L on the card resting aside the bowl of apples. Kira knew he was coming. But how? And where the hell was Rem?

L slowly walked down the short hall, the red carpet plush beneath his feet. The walls donned dull yellow wallpaper covered with tiny green leaves, connected to vines that twisted and turned in a pattern that reminded him of laurels. He passed one door to his left, which he assumed was the bathroom. Across from it, on his right, was a door that most likely led to the bedroom. L reached the end of the hallway. One more turn and he would see whoever was waiting for him. He would see Kira. He could already see the shadows cast by the furniture, could already hear someone shuffling slightly. L took a deep, deep breath. Closed his eyes. On second thought, reopened them. Then he took the last step forward, turned, and walked into the living room.

"Hello, Lawliet."

"Kira." L was momentarily pleased that he hadn't lost his cool. His eyes raked up the all-too-familiar form of Light Yagami. He was the same—he had the same golden skin, the same confident smirk, the same perfect clothing. But the eyes, the hair… they were _wrong._ Scarlet eyes, scarlet hair. Sickening. L's hand twitched towards the gun holstered at his belt. He had every intention of killing Kira now, tonight.

"I'm surprised that you're here," Kira remarked. He rose from the chair he'd been seated in. He was wearing a bright gold dress shirt that perfectly matched the tone of his skin, and tight black jeans. His shoes, though covered mostly by his pants, were rimmed in the same gold as his shirt. He looked like an angel.

 _No,_ L thought. _He looks like a demon. A demon with red hair and eyes…_

"You're not surprised," L growled. "You knew I was coming. Or was that notecard with my name on it just coincidental?"

Kira hummed ambiguously, one hand rising so he could study his nails. "Perhaps I was leaving a message just in case you somehow managed to track me down."

"No. That's foolish. And even if that was the case, you wouldn't have shut down this whole hotel just on the _possibility_ that I found you."

"It wasn't that difficult. All I had to do was bust the water pipes and cut the power. The hotel staff sent everyone home due to unlivable conditions. Then, before the staff had a chance to call repairmen, I killed every single one of them. I fired off a few emails to their family members explaining that they'd been called in for some emergency overtime and would be sleeping at the hotel for a while. None of them were pleased, but no one filed any missing persons reports, so I figure it was good enough. They left the place all for me—not that they know it."

"So there's no one in this entire hotel besides the two of us?"

"Probably."

His eyes were shining. He was hiding something. "How did you know I was coming?" L asked.

He shrugged. "A little bird told me." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and I realized how much he resembled Light for the first time, which was completely _ridiculous_ seeing as they shared a body. "Or rather, a large bird. With the ability to speak. And a fierce love for a certain blonde model…"

"Rem." It wasn't a question. "She told you." _Why? I thought we agreed that we were going to kill Kira, not help him! And even if she wasn't going to go along with me, why did she_ help _him? She was so set on getting rid of Kira for Misa's good…why would she betray me?_

Kira cackled. "You've forgotten, Lawliet… you've forgotten the whole reason that Rem agreed to help you—to protect Misa Amane."

 _Yes, and she knows that you're not good for Misa. She knows that if you remain alive, you'll only hurt her. What made her change her mind?_

"You see, I've been rather concerned with Rem's recent behavior as of late, so I paid Misa a little visit to see what was going on. It didn't take me long to figure out that Rem had decided to assist you. After all, she doesn't like me much, and obviously she knows I'm not right for her precious Misa. Once I figured that out, it was a simple matter of reiterating the fact that Misa _loves_ me, and how it would utterly _break_ her if I were to die. It would break her to the point of taking her own life! And you're planning on killing me, after all, an action that will, in as many words, end in Misa's death. And after I explained that little concept to Rem, she was still reluctant to help me—and so I had the Shinigami King help me out."

L understood. Unfortunately, begrudgingly, L understood.

"Luckily for me, Rem's cooperation with me was a part of his so-called _blueprint_. He ordered Rem around a bit, and that was all it took for her to become just another pawn in our game of chess." The murderer in Light's body leaned back slightly, seemingly satisfied. "She told me that you were planning to come here, to end my life in a sneak attack. But none of that matters now. You are here, and she will not be helping you."

"Why did you let me get this far?" L demanded. "You could've killed me the instant I walked in the door, or captured me at the very least."

"Simple, Lawliet. I want to humiliate you. And I can't do that until I achieve my ultimate goal…" He was suddenly very close to the detective. His lips were practically brushing L's ear. "I won't kill you until I become a shinigami… but that doesn't mean that I can't beat you within an inch of your life."

 _You're not going to get that far._ L's hand had been resting subtly on his holstered weapon throughout their conversation. Now he withdrew it as quietly as he could, tucking it behind his back and whispering back to Kira, "I'd like to see you _try._ "

Kira chuckled darkly, one of his perfect hands coming up and tracing a line across L's throat. "I'm going to destroy you, Lawli," he murmured. "But not just yet. I didn't want you to come here tonight, but since you're here I might as well use this opportunity you have provided me with to make you _hurt_ …" he trailed off, and L felt the monster's smile stretch even wider against his skin.

The gun was rising slowly to aim directly at the back of Kira's head. The safety was still on. The instant L dared to click it off, Kira would know that he was about to be shot. L would have to be fast. His finger hovered over the safety. One twitch of his finger, one, small movement, and…

And then, a low growl rumbling in his throat, Kira froze entirely. He leapt backwards suddenly, one hand shooting up and gripping L's wrist, forcing the muzzle of the gun to point harmlessly up into the ceiling. "Trying to kill me, L?" he spat furiously. "I never thought you'd actually attempt to end Light's life!"

L stared, frozen, up at Kira, where he seemed to tower over him. He reminded himself that Kira didn't know that the bullet would leave Light unharmed. From his position, it must really look like L was attempting to kill him. "I've come to my senses," L bluffed. "Your actions have made me realize that Light is gone, and nothing I do can possibly bring him back. So I intend to kill you here and now, before you have a chance to murder any more innocent people!" L twisted his wrist in Kira's grip, struggling to free himself.

Kira looked genuinely surprised. Then he grinned. "Ooh, he doesn't like that. Your little Light is feeling quite betrayed right now, I think."

It was a lie. Light had been begging L to kill him straight from the beginning. He would have no objections to being killed now, even if L really _was_ planning to end his life. "I no longer care what Light thinks of my actions," L snarled through clenched teeth. "I will do what is best for him, as I should have done _weeks_ ago!"

"I'd like to see you try," Kira growled back, mocking L's earlier words.

For a few long moments the two geniuses stood toe to toe, eye to eye, glaring at each other in an unbroken silence. Then, just as swiftly as it had begun, the silence ended and Kira swept his free hand up and punched L in the side of the face. The detective gasped, stunned, as his fingers went slack and the gun slipped from his hand. It clattered to the ground noisily. Kira stepped over the fallen weapon. Seeing as he didn't intend to kill L just yet, he seemingly had no use for it. Instead he resorted to using his fists, one hand darting out and gripping L by the collar while the other delivered another solid punch to the already-bruising left side of his face.

L's eyes located the fallen gun just before the blow made contact, and his head snapped to one side. _Fight back!_ He told himself furiously, _I have to get the gun and save Light!_ With that in mind he tore himself from Kira's grip and lashed out viciously with his foot, slamming his heel into Kira's stomach. The murderer huffed painfully, stumbling back for only a moment before he retaliated with a sloppy punch that L easily sidestepped. He thanked every deity in existence that he had been trained in various forms of martial arts. Kira threw himself at L once again, not waiting for L to regain his footing after the two vicious blows he'd sustained. The monster thrust his shoulder into L's midsection, slamming him against the wall. L coughed harshly, bringing his elbow down in between Kira's shoulder blades. The red-haired teen let out a pained gasp and drew back before L had a chance to do any more damage.

L took advantage of Kira's winded state to lunge forward and drive a knee up into his stomach while he was still hunched over. L's next strike sent Kira crashing to the ground, where his head collided with the edge of the coffee table sitting in between the couch and the wall. The detective winced as he heard Kira's skull slam into the wood, his pained cry echoing off the walls. But L didn't have to worry about the monster—he had to get the gun! While Kira pulled himself shakily to his feet, L made a mad dash for the gun and snatched it up, pointing it at Kira and keeping his finger ready to release the safety. He had to make sure that he hit Kira with this shot—he only had one chance.

Kira coughed and choked as he rose, the fall no doubt having knocked the breath from his lungs. He raised one hand to the back of his head, and it came away slick with blood. His eyes were slightly unfocused. L wondered for a moment if he'd overdone it. Though, he thought, for all Kira's boasting, he wasn't a very good fighter. Something about that statement made L's stomach twist with unease, but he didn't dwell on it.

"Don't move!" he snapped.

"Why?" Kira spat, one hand still clasped to the back of his head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "You're just going to kill me anyways, right? So shoot, then!"

 _He doesn't believe me,_ L realized. _Very well. That will make you easier to kill, Kira!_ L kept the gun trained on his adversary as he approached. The monster attempted to lash out, his fist finding L's chest, his shoulder, his face, anything he could reach. L caught every punch and deflected it with a flick of his wrist. Kira was being backed even further into a corner with every blow that L deflected. It wasn't long before his back was against the plaster, heels scraping the baseboards. He snarled at L through gleaming teeth, blood beginning to stain the back of his collar. L twisted his fingers in Kira's shirt, pressing him back firmly against the wall. He brought the gun up to press against his forehead. He released the safety. Then he took a look into the red eyes of the monster, and paused.

He wasn't afraid. He was leering at L, eyes narrowed but full of contempt rather than fear. His palms were pressed flat against the wall behind him. There was no sign of resistance, even with a loaded gun pointed at his head. L frowned. Something was wrong here.

"Are you not afraid to die?" L questioned.

Kira leaned forward, pressing against the barrel of the gun. "Do you have the nerve to shoot me?"

L's eyes narrowed. "If you're hedging your bets on my inability to kill Light, then you're in for quite a surprise, my friend.

Kira's smirked, and that feeling of unease swelled in L's chest. "I'm not afraid of you, Lawliet. If you want to shoot me, then fine— _do your worst."_

"I'll do it," L repeated himself, some terrible, deep-rooted feeling stopping him from pulling the trigger. He had a very, _very_ bad feeling about this. "I'll shoot you."

"I know."

Kira leaned forward even further, and L inched backwards a bit in an attempt to evade him. It was ridiculous, he knew— _he_ was the one with the gun, and _Kira_ was the one pressed back up against the wall. But still, something was… _wrong._

"You look nervous, L...do you want to know why I'm not cowering at your feet as you so desire?" Kira whispered, one hand slowly rising to brush along L's jaw, mimicking Light's gentle touch.

L shook his head minutely, riding himself of Kira's touch. He looked too much like Light, sounded too much like him, _moved_ too much like him. L didn't know what he'd been expecting—it was _Light,_ after all, just pushed back by Kira—but whatever he _had_ been expecting, it wasn't this.

Kira went on, ignoring him. "I'll tell you why, Lawliet." He strained against the barrel of the gun, but made no attempt to move it away from him. He almost seemed _excited_ to have a loaded gun trained on him, as if it made his plan a hundred times more thrilling. He bared his teeth in a savage, mocking snarl, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and melodious. "I know something you don't know," he whispered in a singsong tone. "I know something you _wish_ you knew…"

"Be quiet!" L snapped, slamming Kira back firmly against the wall. "Not another word!"

"Oh, Lawliet, are you threatening me?" Kira purred, completely unthreatened. "Do you really think I'm scared of you?"

"I…" L trailed off, the nervous pit in his stomach growing. This was wrong—something was wrong!

Kira's hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun, and L was so shaken that he barely registered it until a moment later, when Kira, a rough laugh escaping his lips, yanked as hard as he could in an attempt to dislodge the weapon.

L immediately fought back, shaken from his haze by Kira's actions. One hand shot out faster than light, striking Kira harshly across the face. There was an audible crack, and blood dripped sickeningly from Kira's nose a moment later. It was almost certainly broken.

Kira let out a surprised gasp as he fell backwards, leaning against the wall, bracing himself against it with a bloodied hand. "You _dare…_ " he snarled, though some of the anger was lost behind the thick tone of his voice as blood dripped from his nasal cavity. "You _dare_ to make the god of the new world bleed?"

L had half a mind to point out that he'd already made Kira bleed plenty over the past few minutes, but before he could open his mouth, he was being forced to duck as Kira swept a fist out in retaliation. L darted to one side, hands shooting out and gripping Kira's arm as it whirled past him. The instant he had a firm grip, he slammed the teen's appendage down onto his knee, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to cause some serious pain. Sure enough, Kira yelped, and a moment later he was cradling his injured arm to his chest.

"Bastard!" Kira snapped shortly, reverting to his favorite insult. He barely had time to catch his breath before L came at him again, using the butt of his pistol as a club as he lurched towards his enemy with surprising speed. Kira was unable to avoid a harsh blow to the shoulder, then another to the chest, and another to the shin. L had him cornered—he had no way out, and he was beginning to realize that fact.

L also seemed to realize it. As Kira hunched over, gasping for breath, he brought his elbow down on the teen's exposed back, sending him crashing to the ground. He flipped his gun over with the full intent of shooting Kira in the head—but a moment later the teen had latched onto his ankle with both hands, and was attempting to break it. He didn't get far before L kicked him away, wincing as Kira's head struck the wall brutally. The already-injured area pumped out more blood, dripping down the wall. Kira's hand shot to the back of his head, and once again, when he drew it away it was covered in blood. He reached up, attempting to find purchase on the wall, but his blood-slicked hand slipped and slid on the smooth surface. It took a long moment for him to haul himself to his feet, and by the time he did, he'd already lost a fair amount of blood. The stuff ran down the wall in streaks, dripped to the carpet in dangerous amounts. No doubt Kira was feeling lightheaded by this point, but he didn't show any sign of it. Quite the contrary—he grinned, teeth stained red, and laughed maniacally.

"Ooh, Lawli!" he purred. "You're so… _vicious!_ I can see why Beyond wanted you so badly before he found _me_ instead."

L winced, wishing not to be reminded of Kira's relationship with Beyond. "Stay down," he growled, fighting nervousness. He didn't want to use his shot until he was sure he wouldn't miss—and in order for that to happen, Kira had to be completely subdued. "Don't move."

Kira didn't move, just as instructed, but he continued laughing. He sounded horrifyingly like Beyond. "Oh, L," he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "You make me laugh! You really think that you're going to win this!"

The murderer made to get up, but L was having none of it—he snarled furiously, lunging forward and tackling Kira to the ground. He grappled with the younger man for several moments, catching both wrists in one hand, pinning his legs down with his own. It wasn't long before Kira was spread out beneath him, completely pinned and unable to move. But oh, he tried. He thrashed helplessly beneath L, using all his strength to attempt to break away. But L had done his job well, and all of Kira's leverage had vanished out from underneath him. It was at this point that L expected the begging to start—or if not that, then perhaps a sign of distress, or _any_ signal that he was nervous. But Kira remained cold and resolute beneath him, teeth bared viciously.

"L…" Kira smirked, straining up towards him. "So forward! If _that's_ what you wanted, then you could have just told me—you didn't have to pin me down!"

The pure suggestion in that statement alone forced L's free hand to fly to his mouth to stem the surge of bile that was rising in his throat. For a long moment, he found himself unable to respond—but then, after a moment of choking back vomit, he managed, "I'm going to kill you."

Sill, there was no sign of fear. Instead, Kira just raised himself further. His eyes glittered dangerously in the dim light; his teeth shimmered with scarlet. "Are you afraid, L?" he snarled. "You've been threatening me this whole time, but are you really capable of shooting your precious Light in the head? You'd really _kill_ him just to kill me? I don't think you can do it, little detective. I think you're _bluffing_."

"I'm not bluffing," L spat, and to prove it, he released the safety and pressed his gun to Kira's forehead for the second time that night. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but something...something deep within him, was stopping him from pulling that trigger.

Kira cocked his head to one side, shivering involuntarily as the cool metal of the gun slid across his flesh with the movement. "Do it," he challenged in a low growl.

"I will!" L responded, his finger tensing on the trigger.

"Then _do it,_ Lawliet!" Kira screeched, his voice echoing around the room ominously. "Do it! Shoot me! End all your troubles, and end the mess you're just making worse and worse!"

L needed no further encouragement. That swell of nervousness was rising in his stomach, and he made every effort to swallow it down before he threw up. "I will do it," he whispered, more to himself than to Kira. But just the same, the murderer heard him, and his response was immediate.

"Will you?"

"Yes," he whispered, once again speaking more to himself than to the murderer beneath him. "Yes, Light, my love…I will." He made sure Kira was pressed firmly against the wall with no chance of escape, barely registering the pained gasp that fell from the murderer's lips, hardly seeing the flash of surprise flicker through those scarlet orbs.

Then, staring directly into the eyes of the monster, L tensed his entire body and pulled the trigger.

 **I wish I could say I was sorry for that cliffhanger, but…I'm not :) I just have to remind you all that this is _not_ the climax of the story. That's still a ways off. Trust me, you'll _know_ when the apex hits.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and pretty-please leave me a review if you did! Help dull the pain of the new school year!**

 **And also...with all this shit going on, and with the school year just starting up, I hope you'll excuse me if I have to miss an update here or there. Don't panic; like I promised, the story is already finished, so there's really no danger of me not posting it all, but I don't want anyone to worry. I'll see you all on Saturday.**


	22. The Burning Horizon

**Welcome to chapter twenty-two! This chapter is _so_ short, and I'm very sorry.** **I really wanted to split up the Teito Hotel confrontation into two parts, so it just resulted in it being a bit shorter than usual. Or, a** _ **lot**_ **shorter than usual. But anyways, thanks a bunch if you left a review! It means a lot to hear from you guys :)**

 **To Beist: Yeeesss, I'm so glad you liked the fight scenes! Writing stuff like that is my thing! And to be perfectly honest, even after writing the ending, I'm not sure if I made the right decision regarding who won and who lost.**

 **And to one of my lovely guests: there'll be a chapter a bit like that once the story ends, but once again, the story is not ending just yet. There are still a few chapters left, and this isn't even the climax of the story! Trust me, it's not nearly dramatic enough to be the story's climax.**

 **Chapter 22: The Burning Horizon**

What was death, exactly?

L had never really considered the concept, seeing he'd always made sure not to form emotional attachments to his subordinates. When they died, he just accepted that they were gone, and didn't bother to think about what exactly constituted death. Why were they dead? What did being dead _mean?_ Scientifically, death was defined as the absence of brain activity—but was that all there was to it? There was a great ethical debate, L knew, over whether or not the definition of death should be expanded to include the failure of the heart to pump, the ceasing of the movement of the chest, and the stilling of the body. _Should death really just span the death of the mind?_ The question went. _That's suggesting that the only thing that constitutes someone's identity is their mind. It's saying that their appearance, their quirks, their body in general, doesn't matter._

And in the other corner, there were those who said, _we're suggesting that the mind is all that matters because the mind_ is _all that matters. Once brain death occurs, the person can no longer awaken, can no longer function, can no longer do anything at all. Therefore, brain death is all that matters. The person's body is insignificant; it's no more than an empty vessel._

 _But the person's body still matters! The body is a part of someone's identity, you can't just kill it once brain death occurs! It's murder!_

 _You can't kill something that's already dead!_

So the argument went.

Personally, L had never really examined either side, and had never deigned to choose one. He was less interested in the concrete definition of death, and more interested in all the details that weren't so certain. He was more than one hundred percent sure that everyone wondered about what happened after death. Would there be heaven, hell, or some manner of limbo? The general mystery of the life—or lack thereof—after death, had kept humankind mystified for centuries. And, of course, despite being the world's greatest detective and one of the most intelligent people alive, L had no idea what would occur after he died.

Although, he mused, it was quite certain that if he was going anywhere, it would be hell.

He supposed that he might be okay with that. Especially, he thought, if the alternative was some sort of horrible purgatory. L wasn't like most of his kind—he existed to think, to solve, to pick apart mysteries and provide the outside world with solutions. To be sent to purgatory, a place in which nothing happened, _forever,_ seemed to be a hell of its own. No, that wasn't accurate—it seemed worse than hell. Being trapped in a place devoid of all mental stimulation for all eternity was undeniably worse than any sort of torture that could possibly be devised for him—which was why, L thought, he would much rather end up somewhere that at least provided _some_ level of mental activity, even if said activity involved a great deal of torment. It was strange, he thought—he knew that most other humans, when faced with the decision between an eternity of peace and an eternity of pain, would choose the obvious. Peace, even if it was boring, was still peace. Pain, even if it was entertaining, was still pain.

And even if a soul ended up in some heavenly plane, did that mean that they were able to communicate with the other souls there? If, for example, L found his way into some sort of paradise, would Light be there once he died? Would they be able to communicate? Would they have even a single memory of their past lives?

And Light…would he be judged for Kira's actions? Was this judge who placed each spirit in their correct afterlife someone who saw in black and white, or in shades of gray? _Was_ there a judge? Who claimed to have the power to decide who was good and who was evil, and where they should go after death? Just whose power had Kira been attempting to steal in his righteous judgments?

Or, perhaps, there was no great power judging all those beneath him. Maybe the world was just as mundane as it seemed, and the afterlife was a concept created for the comfort of humans, so they had a way to say, _this isn't goodbye. I'll see you again after the lights go out._ Perhaps L's debate over the specifics of death were meaningless, and after he died he would be met with nothingness, just as he feared—but he wouldn't have the capacity to care, for he would be, in a word, unaware. It might be just like sleep sans the dreams. At the moment of death, L's mind could just… _shut down,_ and never reboot, so to speak. He would be trapped in a sort of purgatory, yes, but he wouldn't be aware of it. It would be just like falling asleep. Just like flipping a switch.

Would that be what happened to Kira?

When Kira died, what would happen to him? He was a separate personality, yes, but did that grant him a different _soul?_ Would he separate from Light to wander the world as a spirit? Would he be cast down to hell, to purgatory, to limbo…to heaven? Or would he just fall asleep and lose awareness, slipping into a coma-like state?

What was death, to Kira?

Was it an eternity tucked away in the back of Light's mind, completely subdued? Was it a happily ever after of drifting along in a heaven-like space? Was it a tiny cell blazing with hellfire, one like the cell he'd been locked in while in confinement?

What could kill Kira?

Many things could kill Kira, L knew—an ordinary knife to the heart would do it, as would a gun aimed to the chest with a compressed trigger, as would a heavy blow to the head, an untreated wound, or, most ironically, a heart attack. _Most_ things could kill him—the trick was finding something that wouldn't _just_ kill him, but would also leave Light unharmed. That narrowed down L's options staggeringly, and suddenly he was left with two choices—burn the notebook, or shoot him with that special bullet. Either way, Kira lost, and L won. Either way, Kira died, Light survived. Either way, the nightmare ended.

What could kill Kira, indeed. L knew an assortment of things that _could_ kill Kira. L knew countless methods that could leave him dead.

The trick was finding something that _was_ killing Kira. Right now. In this moment in time.

And unfortunately, nothing was killing Kira at the current moment in time.

Nothing.

But L hadn't realized it yet.

L's entire body remained tense as he braced himself for the crack of the gun, for Kira's cry of pain. He waited for the murderer to fall to the ground, for the red to fade from his eyes, for a gentle amber to replace the scarlet. He waited for Kira to die, and for Light to return to him, fully in control and fully aware. But as L stared into Kira's undeniably _red_ eyes, he realized that something was terribly, horribly wrong. And a moment later, he realized just what that something was.

The shot hadn't fired.

And Kira, the bastard, was smirking up at him as if he'd known all along that the bullet wouldn't find a home in his skull. He said nothing, not yet—but his smile was never-ending, stretching ear to ear, twisting his handsome features into a nasty expression of satisfaction.

It took L a long, tense moment to register just what had happened. But when the realization finally pierced his skull, the detective frowned deeply and checked the safety. It…it was off. The gun should have fired…why hadn't it? What was going on?

Kira, still smirking, pressed up against him, attempted to rise.

L slammed him back against the floor immediately. He pressed the gun so hard to the murderer's forehead that he was sure it would leave an imprint, and a moment later he pulled the trigger again, and then once more just to be sure.

No shot. The gun wasn't firing.

Kira laughed, not yet caring to speak.

L drew his hand away from Kira's shirt to pop open the clip and make sure the bullet was still there. It was. So why the hell wasn't the gun firing? His mind moved in slow motion, seemingly unable to tell him just what was happening.

From the haze into which he had fallen, L was almost completely unaware of Kira, whose hand had twisted free of his grip. Said hand darted upwards in a nearly untraceable blur of movement, and a heartbeat later he was wrapping his fingers around L's gun and wrenching it from his grasp. L's head jerked up, a wild, surprised look in his eyes, but by then it was too late—one, harsh blow had the detective's head spinning, and all it took was a light push to send him crashing to the ground beside his fallen adversary.

Kira moved faster than was possible—he launched to his feet, all signs of blood loss and physical fatigue gone, and a moment later the monster planted one foot on L's chest and held him there, helplessly writhing on the carpeted floor. Kira pressed down harder on the detective's chest just to hear him gasp, digging his heel in without mercy. A sadistic grin painted his features, and L was reminded hauntingly of Beyond. That…was _not_ a comparison he wanted to make.

"Oh dear," Kira purred smugly, rubbing the sole of his shoe back and forth across L's chest playfully. "Are you having problems with your gun, Lawliet?" He held up the weapon teasingly, dangling it between two fingers like a child would a toy—a very dangerous, very _nonfunctional_ toy. "Don't tell me it won't _fire,_ after all the effort you put into getting here!" He faked an expression of shock.

"What did you do?" L spat, struggling against Kira's weight. It was no use—the teen was much stronger than he looked, and was having no trouble keeping the detective firmly pinned to the ground. And the gun…there was no way it had simply _malfunctioned._

" _I_ didn't do anything!" Kira insisted innocently, though his smirk said otherwise. "Misa did all the work. You were very foolish, Lawliet, calling her so boldly and asking for a _gun_ of all things. And to protect Light! How laughable! It might have worked, too—your little scheme may have flown right under the radar, escaping my gaze entirely—but you miscalculated. You miscalculated just how cautious I can be. You see, my dear detective, Misa's cell phone was _bugged._ I thought that this might happen, that you might attempt to use her to get to me, and I took the necessary precautions. I never imagined that you'd be so foolish as to just _call_ her like that, though! Oh, Lawliet, you were so _foolish!_ That little bug on that little cell phone was your undoing. I heard _everything_ you said to her—and once I knew that whatever you were planning involved the use of a gun, I took a few more precautions. I got in contact with Misa and ordered her to tamper with the gun so it would be unusable. I admit, I was slightly concerned that you would test it before you attempted to use it on me. I was genuinely worried—that is, until I saw you pull out that broken weapon, and I realized that you hadn't tested it. After I saw that you were too stupid to make sure your weapon was functional, I knew that I'd won. If you'd just tested your gun, if you'd just realized that it was nonfunctional, if you'd retrieved a different one before you confronted me, then I could be _dead_ now. If you weren't such a fool, this would already be over! You really trusted your life, and _my_ life, to _Misa?"_

L flinched from his position beneath Kira's boot. In his obsession with making sure the successors weren't suspicious and making sure the bullet was safe, he'd overlooked the most basic aspect of his plan—the functionality of the gun. How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn't he tested it? Misa had even left it loaded for him, and he hadn't bothered to fire off a single shot. Kira was right—he'd acted foolishly. He should never have come here alone, not when he wasn't sure that every aspect of his plan was in place. It had been his undoing.

"And that's not all," Kira whispered, putting even more weight on L's chest as he hunched over, staring the detective in the eyes. "I _know,_ Lawliet. I know why you were so desperate to shoot me with that gun—or rather, the _bullet_ in the gun."

L froze, his eyes widening. Just how much did he know? How much had the Shinigami King told him? From the sound of it, the King had told him _everything._ L's advantage was gone. No, wait—that wasn't right. L's advantage wasn't _gone,_ he'd never had it in the first place. The more he learned about the King's involvement, the more he became convinced that Kira was meant to win this little skirmish.

His attention was drawn back to Kira as he popped open the clip and shook it so the singular bullet fell out into the palm of his hand. He held it up to the light, observing the black, ethereal glow of the material. "It's very surreal to know that this little thing could kill me," he murmured. His eyes flickered to L, still holding the bullet aloft. "I could destroy this, you know. I could take it with me, throw it out to sea, burry it somewhere you'd never find it, and that would be the end of it." There was a long pause as Kira examined the bullet, and L feared that he really would throw it out the window, flush it down the toilet, or something equally damning. But instead Kira slipped the bullet back into the clip and pushed the clip back into the gun. "I could do all that," he drawled. "But I'm not going to. The Shinigami King promised you a single shot, and no matter what I do, you're going to get it. Until you've taken aim and fired, this bullet will just find its way back to you. No—the _King_ will find his way back to you, and he'll give you this little bullet back. No matter what I do, you're going to have a chance to shoot me. Of course, you know as well as I that you might very well miss. Or, if I kill you first, you might never have the chance to use your shot." He shrugged, rolling the bullet between his fingertips. "And besides all that, if I attempted to get rid of your precious bullet now, all the challenge would be gone! I _challenge_ you, L Lawliet. I challenge you to track me down and shoot me before I have a chance to become a shinigami. I _challenge_ you to save your precious Light."

L marveled at Kira's arrogance. Here he was, the only thing in the _world_ that could kill him and leave Light unharmed, and he was giving it back to L for later use—even if it was true that the Shinigami King would return to him the bullet until he had the chance to use it, Kira should, at the very least, _attempt_ to get rid of it. "Very arrogant," he snarled, before realizing that it wasn't the best idea to question the murderer's logic.

"Perhaps," Kira purred. "We will see."

A sudden crash echoed through the hotel, resonating from one of the lower floors. A moment later, someone screamed, and another crash followed the first. Muted voices came from below, and a series of small thuds met L's ears, shadowed by a loud, booming sound that could only have been a gunshot. Several more followed. He frowned, remembering Kira's reaction when L asked him whether or not there were other people in the hotel. _Maybe, maybe not. We shall see._

Kira heard the noises as well, and for just a moment his eyes darted towards the door. His smirk dissipated slightly, and he murmured, "It seems that a fight has commenced downstairs. You were followed here."

L's eyes widened. "Impossible!" he blurted out. "There is no possible way someone could have followed me!" His mind flitted back to the heavy doses of sedative he'd injected into the successors. It was possible that they had worn off by now, but unlikely. He wondered who it was that was shooting.

And then he remembered.

Matt…he'd only had half a dose of the stuff. It should have been enough to knock him out for a good couple of hours, but…clearly that wasn't the case. It had to be him. No one else could possibly be downstairs. But how had he found him? How much did he know? L recalled the suspicious look with which Matt had regarded the tea L served him. He'd assumed that the successor's suspicion was just a figment of his overactive mind—but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe, just maybe…Matt had known his plan, even then. If that was the case, then it was all-too-clear to see just who was shooting in the lobby. And if he was shooting, then there was only one person he could be shooting at.

As if reading his train of thought, Kira smirked. "It'll be okay," he droned. "I sent Beyond downstairs to deal with anyone you may have brought with you as backup, or any stalkers or followers."

"No!" L rasped, the pressure on his chest becoming more and more painful. "Call him off! You can't hurt him!" He wouldn't tell Kira who was downstairs. It was ridiculous, but some irrational part of his mind was whispering that if Kira didn't know who was downstairs, he wouldn't be able to hurt him.

"Don't worry," Kira responded, clearly overly pleased with himself. "Beyond won't kill them. Whoever they are, he'll just rough them up a little. After all, that person following you was a part of my plan. Imagine it, Lawliet! Your little successor—whichever one it may be—rushes up here and finds me standing over your broken, bleeding body. He thinks you're dead until he gets closer and checks your pulse. Then I step back and let him peel you off the ground and haul you back to headquarters."

"What's the point?" L rasped, shifting slightly in a faint attempt to throw Kira off him.

"The point? Why, the point is the pain it causes you and the task force! I don't want to kill you until I become a god, but in the meantime I don't mind seeing more of your _delicious_ pain…" Kira pressed down on L's chest with startling pressure, and the detective felt a series of small pops lace through his chest. L's lips parted instinctively, but he just managed to contain his scream.

That was a mistake.

Kira's expression twisted into one of fury. He slammed the gun down on the table with a snarl, snapping his hand down to grip L by the hair. He yanked the injured detective to his feet, tugging painfully on the tangled black mass that L called hair. L found himself pinned face-first against the wall he'd had Kira against mere minutes ago. Kira twisted one arm behind his back painfully, shoving his already damaged chest against the hard plaster. L snapped his teeth shut, tasting blood. He must have bitten into his tongue…it was painful, but in the face of Kira's abuse, it was nothing.

"Stop trying to keep yourself quiet!" Kira hissed, drawing the detective's body back a few inches, only to slam him back in place moments later. L was hauntingly reminded of the way Beyond had knocked Light out on that fateful night so long ago—the night he'd taken Light from him and set into motion _everything_ that followed the regaining of the teen's memories. The comparison was chilling, and L hated it.

Seeming immensely displeased with L's lack of vocalized pain, Kira twisted the detective's arm harshly, fingers bruising pale flesh. Much more of this and L was going to have a dislocated shoulder to deal with. He clenched his teeth even further, making sure his tongue was out of the way this time. He didn't want to hurt himself any more than was necessary. He realized then, with a start, that Kira was waiting for him to respond. But no, L would not give him the satisfaction. And so he turned his head to one side, gnashing his teeth in refusal to speak.

"I warned you…" Kira murmured. He drew back slightly. Then he wrenched L's arm, _hard,_ and the detective had no choice but to scream as he felt an intense pain in his shoulder. That was it—it'd felt the joint collapse. Kira, the bastard, had actually done it. "There…" the monster purred smoothly, grinning savagely. "That's better." He pressed gently on the collapsed joint, and this time there was nothing L could do to hide the noises that were torn from his throat. His sounds of discomfort only served to make Kira increase his efforts. The monster released his arm and spun him around, his hand clenching around his throat. L choked as his air was abruptly cut off. He struggled viciously, finding the strength to kick at Kira's legs, but with every second he was weakening, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

The monster tilted his head to one side, that demented smirk widening impossibly. "Do you know what this is, L?" Kira whispered, and L shuddered as those full lips brushed his neck. "Do you?"

L barely managed a shake of the head.

"You don't? Then I'll tell you…" Kira slammed the back of L's head against the wall, and all fight left the detective. He pushed back the darkness edging his vision as the monster tightened his hold on his throat. L's lungs were burning, and tingling numbness was beginning to spread through his extremities as his body began to shut down. He felt a rumble against his chest, and he realized dimly that Kira was laughing. "My dear Lawliet," he whispered. "This is checkmate."

L's mind was too scrambled to recognize the meaning behind that statement. He raised a hand sloppily to Kira's arm, tugging faintly in an attempt to get him off before he lost consciousness. "L-let… me…!" he stuttered. _Let me go!_ His thoughts were slowing. _I thought…you didn't want to kill me!_

Kira just tightened his grip further, sneering nastily, and for a moment L was convinced that he was really trying to kill him, here and now. But then, just as L's vision was fogging over and going dark, the monster's grip was gone, and the dark-haired detective was sliding to the ground hazily. He coughed as he drew in breath faster than his damaged throat could manage. He was aware of how he must look, gasping for breath as he crouched at Kira's feet. The red-haired boy nudged L onto his back with a foot, leaning over him to observe the flushed appearance of his face as he struggled to regain his breath.

"Beautiful…" Kira whispered menacingly, prodding L's dislocated shoulder with the toe of his shoe. L whimpered painfully as the already tender area was touched. "I'm almost tempted to keep you here as my prisoner instead of letting you go running back to the investigation team. Your screams are just so _intoxicating._ "

"Monster!" L choked, unable to do much else.

"So it seems," Kira responded carelessly. More shots came from the lower floors, the sound echoing through the lower floors and bouncing off the blood-streaked walls. Kira turned his head towards the source of the noise, clearly irritated. "Let's wrap this up. I'm a busy man, you know. I have better things to do than beat you to death."

L opened his mouth to ask what he meant by "wrapping up," but before he had the chance to make a noise, a terrible pain shot through his side. Kira… had kicked him. He felt another light pop in his ribs. He wondered through a haze of pain how many bones he'd broken. He heard a slight rustle, then jolted miserably as Kira's blow connected solidly with the same spot. L hissed softly. Kira's low chuckle reached him.

"I'll see you in a five days, Lawliet—no, wait, it's midnight. You have _four_ days, now. So I suppose I'll see you then, my dear detective. On the night of the New Year."

L had not the strength to respond. His eyes blearily tracked the movement of Kira's leg as he drew it back for one last blow. He heard a swish of movement. Felt a pinprick of pain in his head that swiftly grew into an agonizing sensation that covered the entire left side of his skull. His vision fuzzed over, and this time he was unable to draw himself back from the edge of unconsciousness.

Then his eyes glued themselves closed, and darkness consumed him.

†††

Blood dripped down Matt's face. The salty substance dribbled in between the two lenses of his goggles, snaking down his nose and flowing over his bloodied lips. There was a nasty cut at his hairline. It stung. But then again, most of his body stung at this point. Beyond's knife was far too fast for him to keep up with—he had various slash marks crisscrossing all over his body, the shallow cuts growing greater and greater in number until it was nearly possible to play a game of chess on Matt's chest. Beyond didn't seem to be trying to kill him. If he'd really been trying, Matt had no doubt that he would be in a much worse condition. As it was, he was slightly dizzy from loss of blood, and every cut Beyond had made stung like hell—but he didn't think he would die. But then again, he'd been wrong about these kinds of things before.

At least, Matt reflected, Beyond wasn't in much better condition. He wasn't bleeding as badly as Matt was, but he was bruised and beaten, the purple and red marks already blossoming all over his pale skin. His dark shirt was stained even darker with blood, both Matt's and his own. One eye was swollen from where Matt had managed to clock him with the butt of his pistol. He was half surprised that neither of them had lost a tooth during their vicious fight.

They had reached a slight lull in their battle, a moment in which both of them drew back and simply stood there, hunched over, gasping for breath. Matt cursed internally, wishing that he hadn't used the rest of his bullets before this moment. If only he had even a single bullet left to shoot at Beyond! He struggled to get his breath back, cursing his sloppy use of ammo and Beyond's superior dodging skills. If he could just have a few moments more to rest, then he could charge at Beyond and catch him off-guard. Just a moment more, and—

Beyond's phone rang.

Matt blinked, surprised, as an American pop song sounded from the cellular device that Beyond was suddenly fishing out of his back pocket. He flipped open the phone and held it to his ear.

"Yes?" he asked, and Matt could do nothing but stare dumbly because he _couldn't believe_ that this _moron_ was taking time from the middle of their fight to take a goddamn _phone call._ "Already?" A pause. "Very well." Beyond drew the phone away from his ear and closed it, slipping it back into his back pocket. His reddish eyes found Matt's. "Looks like we're done here. It's a shame… I would have liked to play with you a little more."

Matt frowned, opening his mouth to ask what Beyond meant and who had called him, but the murderer cut him off before he had a chance.

"You can go see L now. Kira's done with him."

Panic tore through Matt. "Done with him? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is he _dead_?" His fingers clenched and unclenched as if he longed to twist them in Beyond's shirt and shake him violently, ripping from him the answers he so desperately sought.

"He's not dead. Though I can't say if he's unharmed." Beyond shrugged insouciantly. "He's in room 1313, waiting for you to save him. I'd hurry, kid."

Matt wished bitterly that he could shoot the bastard, kill him for what he'd done. But before he knew what was happening, Beyond had maneuvered swiftly around him so that he was between Matt and the door to the outside. Snow was falling in sheets now, creating a frosty glaze across the glass of the doors. Beyond grinned at his opponent toothily, lodged his knife between his side and his belt, opened the door, and strode out into the cold. Matt wanted to run after the monster and finish what he'd started, with his bare hands if he had to. But L was his top priority, and he had no idea what Kira had done to him. As much as he longed to kill Beyond, it would have to wait.

The third ranked successor turned away from where Beyond had exited. He located the stairs and began to sprint up them, not trusting the elevator. Room 1313…

He hoped he wouldn't be too late.

†††

Matt burst into room 1313 boldly, not caring if Kira was waiting on the other side with a gun. He darted down the small hallway, passing the bathroom and the bedroom, and found himself in a large, lavishly furnished living room. His eyes scoured the room for Kira and L, and immediately he spotted a pair of red eyes glowing in the darkness. He recognized them immediately.

"Well, well, well," Kira purred, stalking out of the shadows and into the dim light, said light casting eerie shades of darkness across his face. "I didn't expect _you_ to be the one who showed up."

"Who did you expect?" Matt questioned, not really caring about the answer.

Kira seemed just as uninterested in the response to the question, and instead, he asked, "Tell me, Matt, why did you come here?"

"I'm going to save L," the successor growled, eyes scanning the room. There was no sign of L. Where was he? Was he already dead?

Kira cocked his head curiously. "Save L? Save him? I'm curious, Matt—why do you want to do that?"

"He's my friend," Matt responded hesitantly. "I have a responsibility to protect him from the likes of _you."_ All the venom was absent from his words, and Kira realized it.

He smirked ear to ear, and murmured in that thick, velvety voice, "Oh no, Matt…don't tell me that you're having a hard time realizing that I'm _Kira,_ and not _Light?_ You look so terribly conflicted…don't you recognize me for the monster I am?"

"I thought you were justice," Matt mocked, though Kira was right—he gazed upon the scarlet-haired teen, and all he saw was Light. All he could see in those red eyes was the ghost of someone he cared about, someone he had come to like. He knew, logically that this was Kira. And Kira had held a gun up to his head, had threatened to pull the trigger. And he _had_ pulled the trigger, Matt knew. If the gun had been loaded he would already be dead. But still—despite all that, despite the fact that this person had attempted to kill him, he couldn't see him for the monster he was. He couldn't see him as Kira. All he saw was Light, even now. All he saw was the person that had brought so much happiness to L.

The teen raised his face skywards, offering up his demented grin to the ceiling. "I am a monstrous sort of justice. I am a demon of the law, an executioner of the people—in both meanings of the phrase."

Matt slowly inched into the room, eyes still searching for L.

"Oh, are you looking for L?" Kira asked innocently, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"Yes," Matt ground out furiously. "Where is he?"

"Hmm…" Kira trailed off, waving a hand noncommittally towards the corner of the room.

Immediately, Matt's eyes snapped to the location. His stomach twisted as he realized that blood was streaked down the wall, staining the carpet thickly. And there, lying in the center of that pool of blood, just barely hidden by the furniture—

"Oh my god!" Matt gasped. "L!" He darted past Kira—no, he _tried_ to dart past Kira—but he was easily stopped by a hand twisted in his collar, hauling him away from his fallen comrade.

"Not so fast," Kira murmured. "I have something to give you."

"You've given me plenty already—no, you've given _all of us_ plenty. Your so-called gifts are poisonous, Kira. We don't want anything from you."

"No? I think you'll want this one." Kira reached a hand into his pocket, and Matt realized with a sickened sort of fascination that his hand was painted red with blood, no doubt from his fight with L. No, fight wasn't the right word—it had been a massacre, if L's tattered form had anything to say about it. When Kira's hand reemerged, he was clasping a bloodstained index card between two equally bloodstained fingers. He twisted it, and Matt saw that on one side there was printed a large, intricate L in gothic font. On the other, something was scribbled in red pen, but he wasn't sure what. Kira waved the index card teasingly before the successor, drawling, "Don't you want this? It has some valuable information on it, my friend."

It was tempting. But it would be like accepting a deal with the devil, and Matt wasn't inclined to give up his soul for a scrap of paper. "No, Kira. Get that thing out of my face."

The murderer frowned, seemingly offended. "But my dear Matt, you want this. Don't you want to know my plan?" He held it inches from Matt's chest. "Go on…I want you to have it."

When Matt still refused to take it, Kira sighed, yanking the teen closer by the collar and forcibly shoving it into his vest pocket.

"Don't lose it," he growled. His fingers uncurled from Matt's shirt and released him entirely, allowing the successor to dart across the room in L's direction.

Matt paid no attention to Kira as he dropped to his knees beside the unmoving form of L. Blood was pooling beneath his head, saturating the carpet and turning it an ugly shade of red. Matt pressed two fingers to L's throat, reassuring himself that he was, in fact, alive. Then he rolled him over and ran his fingertips through the bloody hair, locating a large gash that felt swollen to the touch. Matt felt a drop of blood slip off the tip of his nose, splashing down into L's hair, and he was reminded that he wasn't in the best position either. He raised the back of his hand to his forehead and attempted to wipe away the scarlet, only succeeding in smearing the stuff over his face.

A slight shuffle drew the successor's attention to Kira. The red-haired teen was moving for the door, hands shoved in his pockets uncaringly.

"Hey, wait!" Matt called after him, stunned. "Where are you going?"

Kira paused, hand inches from the door. "I'm done here. I'm leaving."

"You're…you're not going to end this here and now?" Matt asked, stunned. He could hardly believe it—here he was, too injured to put up much of a fight, and Kira was just…walking out?

"This ends on the New Year," Kira insisted in a low tone. "Not a moment sooner. I've already played my hand, and L's already played his. Now, I'm just waiting for one last thing. There's just one player left who hasn't entered the game."

 _He means us,_ Matt realized. _The successors. We haven't played our hand yet._

"We can't play a proper game until the board is set up properly," Kira went on. "And the board won't be set up properly until the New Year. On that day, it will be over. On that day, by the time the clock strikes twelve, this will end, and I will become a god."

Become…a god? Matt opened his mouth, intent on asking further questions, but before he could, Kira was already speaking again.

"You'd best be getting your little detective back to headquarters. He'll bleed out soon, and you're not in a much better position yourself. Beyond did quite a number on you—though I've seen him do worse."

Matt realized with a start that he was right—he was beginning to feel lightheaded, and he still had to make the trek through the snow to reach headquarters. And L wasn't looking good. His flesh was even paler than usual, sickly by comparison.

The door opened suddenly, and Matt's eyes snapped back to Kira.

"Good luck, Matt," Kira purred, radiating confidence. "Oh…and one more thing. That gun right there, over on the table? Take it with you."

"Why should I—?"

"Just do it. You'll understand once L wakes up."

And with that, the door slammed shut, and Kira's footsteps faded into nothing.

For a long moment Matt just stared at the space from which Kira had just vanished, a part of him contemplating rushing after him and taking him down. But just as he began to take a step towards the door, the sound of rustling cloth sounded from behind him, and Matt realized that he couldn't leave L alone. Kira's downfall would just have to take place another day. The sound of rustling cloth sounded once again, and Matt turned back towards L worriedly.

"L?" Matt asked cautiously, moving to his side and dropping to his knees beside the detective's form. He reached out hesitantly, shaking him in a weak attempt to wake him up, but he received no response. "L, come on, wake up!" Sill, there was no reaction. Matt felt a swell of panic rising in his chest, and he realized suddenly that L could be seriously hurt. After all, Kira had promised that he wouldn't kill him until the New Year, but he hadn't promised that he wouldn't beat L within an inch of his life. He had to figure out just how bad his injuries were, and fast—if he was in critical condition, then he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it back to headquarters in time.

Matt rolled the older detective onto his back and looked him over. The first thing he noticed was his shoulder—it looked out of place, and Matt immediately suspected that it was dislocated. He gently pressed on his shoulder and found his suspicions correct as his fingers probed the joint, which was clearly damaged. The shoulder had been dislocated. Other than that he was horrifyingly bruised to the point of looking like some sort of sadistic painting, and the left side of his face was swollen and cut. He had obviously been struck harshly there. He may have sustained a concussion—no, actually, if all the blood dripping from the back of his head had anything to say about, L had _definitely_ sustained a concussion. And depending on the severity of said concussion, L's life could very well be in danger. He didn't want to think about how hard Kira must have struck him to split the back of his head open so horrifyingly. Moving his investigation to the detective's torso, Matt swiftly yanked L's shirt up. The sight that met him was stomach churning. Kira…he'd done quite a number on his victim. Matt brushed his fingertips over the black and blue skin, wincing as they came away bloody. A few ribs were definitely broken, and the skin was split almost everywhere the successor turned his gaze. It seemed as if Kira had turned his mortal enemy into a red, blue, and black artwork.

The good news—it didn't seem as if he was in critical condition. But his concussion…it might be serious. He had no way to know if there was swelling in the brain, and if that was the case…

Well…things wouldn't be good.

He had to get him back to headquarters. Matt stooped to draw L's limp form into his arms, but he paused suddenly as he remembered Kira's words. _He wanted me to take the gun…should I take it with me?_ Matt straightened his spine, eyes raking down the table—and sure enough, there it was. A very old, very battered handgun. He shouldn't take it, Matt knew. He shouldn't do as Kira asked. But something, something deep within him, was screaming for him to take the gun in hand. Something about this gun, something about the way it sat upon the table and stared with nonexistent eyes, made him want to listen to Kira.

 _I don't have time for this!_ Matt snarled internally. _L is hurt, and I need to get him back to headquarters as fast as I can!_ He reached for L one more time, then stopped—and a moment later, against his better judgment, he was darting across the room and scooping up the handgun. He shoved it in the waistband of his pants and returned to L's side in a heartbeat.

He scooped the body of the detective up in his arms, carrying him bridal-style towards the door. His eyes flitted about this way and that in a search for Kira, just in case he was planning on hanging around to ambush him once again, but the monster was nowhere to be found. He would have liked, just as the case was with Beyond, to track the murderer down and make him pay. But L was hurt to a degree that Matt didn't yet know, and both of them were disarmed. And Kira had the Death Note. It would be meaningless to attempt to go after him. Matt balanced L's body on one knee as he momentarily freed one hand in order to open the door. He carried L down the various flights of stairs, refusing to stop and rest. With every step he took he felt the effects of blood loss more and more, and he knew that he had to reach headquarters before he became too weak to carry on. He hadn't realized just how badly he was hurt. The gash above his head was spouting blood, dribbling down his face, flowing over his goggles and seeping into his eyes. The rest of the cuts covering his body dripped painfully, and Matt knew without looking that should he glance down, he would see nothing but red—his clothing was completely soaked through and slashed to pieces, so he looked like he'd been attacked by something akin to a werewolf.

Matt had reached the streets. He pushed open the doors of the hotel and carried L out, well aware that the cold weather was the worst possible thing for the two of them. If he collapsed due to blood loss, then there would be no saving them; the snowstorm would send them to death long before the New Year. But still he persisted, cursing the lack of people and cars on the streets as he headed for home. Each step was a battle. The snow around his feet thickened, pulling at his soaked jeans and clogging his shoes, numbing every bit of skin it could reach. Blood dripped off both Matt and the detective he carried as they neared the headquarters, leaving scarlet splotches in the crisp snow. The effects of the cold were already setting in. Matt's feet were beginning to go numb, the terrible, tingling feeling spreading further and further up his legs as he walked, creeping up into his fingertips. He was beginning to feel sleepy.

 _No!_ He told himself firmly, gasping for breath, wincing as the frosty air stabbed at his lungs painfully. _Between the cold and the blood loss, if I go down now, I won't wake up again! I owe this to L, I owe it to him to get him to safety!_ The headquarters was visible now. He prayed to every deity in existence that Mello, Near, and Watari had awoken from their drug-induced slumber by now.

He moved as swiftly as he could, fighting the cold that was turning his whole body sluggish, hauling L across the last few yards to reach headquarters. He staggered up to the gate and stabbed at the keypad with thick fingers, entering in the security code to the best of his ability. He sniffed to keep his nose from dripping. L's form was getting heavier and heavier as the snow whirred around him, making it nearly impossible to walk. Bus still, he stumbled up the steps to the entrance, unlocked the door with the correct passcodes, and forced his way into the warm building. The heat blasted him head on, and after the frigid cold of the outdoors, it felt like stepping into a furnace. The heat stung Matt's face, and as comforting as it was to be in such a warm area, he knew that neither he nor the person he carried were safe just yet. If Matt collapsed now, there was a strong possibility that he would bleed out, and L could quite conceivably die of trauma to the head.

"Mello!" Matt rasped out, dragging L further inside. The doors shut firmly behind them, automatically locking. "Near! Watari!" He struggled to keep moving towards the elevator, but it was too much—his legs gave out, and he topped to the ground, expending the last of his energy to thrust an arm out in between L's head and the floor. Blood mixed with melting snow, pooling around both detectives and spiraling outwards like a scarlet spider web. "Mello!" Matt called again, forcing his voice to rise above a weak rasp. "Mello, please…"

There was a long silence. Then—thank god—a loud series of bangs sounded from the upper floors. A torrent of curse words came streaming down from above. It seemed as if Mello, at least, was waking up. A few more crashes sounded, then two more voices joined the first. There was the sound of a light scuffle, and the sound of something heavy being moved. A few moments later the elevator dinged, and three people crashed forth from the double doors, eyes bleary, forms drooping sleepily. Mello's clothing was twisted, and his hair was tangled. His shirt was on backwards—how that had happened, Matt would never know. Near's eyes were slightly glazed and his hair resembled a bird's nest. Watari was the only one who looked moderately normal, though he too appeared exhausted. The sedative must still be in their systems.

"I need help!" Matt gasped out, catching their full attention. To his relief, all hints of exhaustion vanished from their eyes when they saw the condition of L and himself. "Please!"

The next few minutes were a blur of movement. Matt was dimly aware of being moved to the infirmary on one of the higher floors, being laid down in a cot across from L. He felt warm hands, the hands of Mello, stripping him of his soaked, bloody clothing and beginning to dab at the shallow wounds. He felt a dull sting as the antiseptic found the slashes. Someone was removing his goggles and wiping away the blood on his face, pressing a cloth against the sluggishly bleeding gash at his hairline. It hurt, but the pain was increasing rather than fading, and Matt realized with a nearly inaudible sigh of relief that he wasn't going to die. Then blankets were being pulled over and around him, and someone was worriedly whispering in his ear.

It was warm here, and safe.

Matt closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 **Ooh, we're getting close to the endgame! Only four in-story days left until the New Year! Oh, how I wonder how this story will end…**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, please leave me a review!**


	23. Darkness Falls

**Welcome to chapter twenty-three! This is the last chapter that takes place entirely in headquarters. After this...well...let's just say it gets a bit more interesting. Also, last chapter I _totally forgot_ to mention that part five ended! This is the beginning of part six, the final part, which I like to refer to as _The Forest._**

 **To one of my lovely guests: I'm way to lazy to check if I said that in chapter one, but yeah, that's the correct number of chapters. Shhh, let's just keep it between us ;)**

 **Thank you so, so, _so_ much if you left a review on the last chapter! You guys motivate me to no end!**

 **Chapter 23: Darkness Falls**

The successors had never been more afraid than the moment they were awakened by Matt's frantic screaming. Mello and Near, who had been slowly awakening from their drug-induced slumber, had peeled themselves off the ground and darted towards the elevator before their eyes had fully opened. Watari was already waiting for them when they arrived, his finger on the button that would take them to the lobby. Mello and Near stepped into the elevator without a word, and they were sped down to the lobby at top speed.

Then the elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and all hell broke loose.

In an instant Mello was kneeling beside Matt, who slipped to the ground after assuring himself that help had arrived. The blonde successor shook Matt furiously, demanding that he stay awake. Meanwhile, Near and Watari crouched beside L. He was completely unconscious and heavily injured. Without stopping to assess the extent of the damage, Watari scooped him up and motioned for Mello to do the same to Matt.

"Infirmary," the old inventor said shortly. They arrived in the infirmary in record time and laid the injured pair on beds across from each other. Watari ordered Mello to strip Matt of his tattered and bloodied clothing. As Mello worked Matt's shirt over his head, Near began doing the same to L. Watari headed over to the shelves full of medical supplies and began pulling out the necessary equipment.

"Matt's bleeding badly," Mello announced. "I need antiseptic and bandages, Watari."

The inventor handed Mello the requested materials and asked, "Are any of the cuts deep enough to require stitches?"

"The one on his forehead will definitely require stitching. Other than that, no." Mello choked back tears as he pressed a washcloth to one of Matt's still-bleeding gashes. He seemed deeply rattled by the situation, and unable to choke back his rising panic. "He needs help _now,_ Watari, and I don't know how to stitch him up!"

"Does L require immediate attention?" Watari asked.

"Yes," Near responded, voice tight. "I don't know how much blood he's lost, but if his clothing is anything to go off of, then the answer is _a lot._ His shoulder appears to be dislocated and he has sustained a heavy blow to the head. He most likely has a severe concussion. In addition I believe several of his ribs are fractured or broken."

Watari moved to L's side, running his fingers across the back of his head and the swollen left side of his face. "How severe is the bleeding currently?" he asked grimly.

"It's slowed considerably. I can handle it if you give me a roll of bandages and antiseptic. None of his wounds are severe enough to require stitching."

Watari wordlessly passed the required materials to Near, who swiftly and efficiently stemmed the worst of the rivers of blood. While he worked, Watari pressed lightly on the back of L's head, frowning deeply.

Raising his head, he said to Near, "With a blow like this he definitely has a concussion. We won't know the severity until he wakes up."

"That means that we won't know if there's swelling in the brain until he wakes up either," Near protested. "If there is then he could die without being able to tell us what's wrong."

"Provide him with oxygen therapy," Watari instructed. He pointed to the shelves of medical equipment. "Use a respirator to make sure there's enough oxygen in the blood. I also want you to hook him up to an IV and give him medication to help keep his blood pressure from dropping. Do you know which ones to use?"

Near nodded and headed over to the shelves of equipment, grabbing what he needed. As he returned to L's side and began administering the treatment, Watari retrieved a vial of anesthetic, a needle, and surgical thread. He pulled a chair to Matt's side and began gently cleaning the gash on his forehead, working around Mello's frantic gesturing.

"Continue bandaging his wounds," Watari ordered. Mello nodded hurriedly. Watari dampened a washcloth with a splotch of antiseptic and dabbed at the gash, clearing away the blood and making sure there weren't any foreign particles caught in the wound. Once he was satisfied, he drew the contents of the vial of anesthetic into the barrel of a syringe and injected the substance just beside the wound. After giving the anesthetic time to sink in, Watari threaded the needle with silken surgical thread and began working to sew the large gash together.

As Watari worked, Near slipped a respiratory mask over L's mouth and nose and began treating him for his obvious and severe concussion. He grabbed L's limp arm and turned it over, carefully inserting the IV. He started the flow of fluids into L's bloodstream, hoping it would be enough to prevent and treat possible swelling in the brain.

Watari tied off the last stitch and snipped the thread, drawing back. "He shouldn't require a transfusion," he reported. "He'll be lightheaded when he wakes up, but other than that we should be able to leave him be once his wounds have been bandaged."

"The treatment is going smoothly for L," Near reported. "I'm concerned about his shoulder and ribs, though."

Watari left Mello to his bandaging and returned to L's side. He gently pushed on the joint. "It needs to be set back in place," he said. "Near, give him a general anesthetic. I'll handle his shoulder."

The white-haired successor nodded. He moved back to the cabinet, retrieving a syringe full of anesthetic, then moved to L and injected it into the affected area.

Watari placed one hand on L's upper chest and used the other to grip his shoulder. He paused for a moment, steeling himself. Then, with one sharp movement, he snapped the shoulder back into place. If L had been awake, he would have screamed. But as it was his face showed only mild discomfort, eased considerably by the anesthetic.

Near soundlessly began work on placing a sling around L's arm, making sure he couldn't move it around and thus dislocate his shoulder again.

Mello rose from his crouch over Matt, his face pale. "I've disinfected and bandaged all of Matt's wounds," he reported. "He'll be okay, right?"

Watari smiled reassuringly at him, though it was strained. "He should be fine. And if anything goes wrong, you'll be here to watch over him."

Mello nodded fervently. "What about L?"

"We won't know the extent of the damage until he wakes up, but his condition appears to be at least moderately stable for now."

Near broke in, "The only thing that can be done for fractured ribs is the administering of pain reducing drugs and lots of rest. We'll just have to watch and make sure they don't heal incorrectly. Other than that, we'll have to conduct a standard test to assess the extent of his concussion."

Watari nodded in agreement. "We've done all we can. Now we must wait for them to awaken."

†††

There were four days until the New Year.

When Matt opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the white-speckled ceiling looming above him.

The second thing he saw, after forcing his eyes to adjust to the blinding, fluorescent light, was a needle sticking out of the back of his hand. A needle that connected to a tiny tube, which connected to an IV bag, which connected to a metal hook…

The third thing he saw, and arguably the most important, was an exhausted-looking blonde male, hunched over and pressing his forehead into the side of Matt's bed. No, bed wasn't the right word—it was a cot. As Matt's mind cleared, he realized that he was in the infirmary. And that person sitting at his bedside was also clasping one of his hands, the one not taken up by an IV. Matt swallowed, and winced as he noticed just how dry his mouth was, and just how painfully rough his throat felt. He attempted to speak, but just ended up coughing as his voice caught in his throat.

Mello immediately jerked his head up, his fingers tightening painfully around Matt's. "You're awake!" he burst out. Then he seemed to realize that Matt was coughing, and he immediately reached out and passed him a bottle of water. It was a long moment before the younger successor was able to drink, but the instant the cool liquid found his throat, he was granted immediate relief.

"Thanks…" Matt rasped, rubbing absent-mindedly at his throat. He coughed a few more times, took another drink of water, and forced his breathing to even out. Slowly, as he laid there, his senses began to return to him, one by one—and unfortunately, one of said senses involved a heavy dose of _pain._

He could tell that he'd been drugged with some sort of painkiller, but it clearly wasn't enough—his whole body ached, and he could feel with startling clarity each and every one of the slices running across his chest and stomach. For just a moment, he wondered when and where he'd obtained those cuts—but then his mind cleared further, and he remembered all that had happened. How long had it been? How long had be been asleep? And L…was he okay? Matt attempted to sit up, but was forced to stop halfway through as a terrible pain surged through his entire body. "Oh…" he groaned, raising a hand to his head. "I'm not feeling so well…"

"Easy," Mello urged, brushing his hands over Matt's shoulders. "You've only been out for about eight hours; you need to rest more." Mello continued his mindless brushing of fingertips to skin, and the younger successor realized that he couldn't feel the other male's touch very well—his whole upper body was wrapped in bandages, it seemed. "You'll be a little lightheaded for a while. We've got you on some pretty powerful pain medication as well; you're probably a bit out of it at the moment, am I right?"

Matt nodded shortly, and his whole world spun around him. "Morphine?" he asked blearily.

"No, we saved that for L."

"L!" Matt gasped, and this time when he lurched up there was no stopping him. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

Mello's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as if he was debating the intelligence of telling his lover the answer. But a moment later he murmured, "He's in a bad way, Matt. Don't get me wrong, he'll live—but he hasn't woken up yet. He's got the whole nine yards: broken ribs, slashed torso, dislocated shoulder, severe concussion…we've got _him_ on morphine. Don't think he'd be able to handle it if we didn't. There's only so much the human body can handle before it just…quits."

"But he's alive?" Matt demanded. "He's going to be okay?"

Mello gestured towards the other side of the infirmary. "Yeah, yeah. He's laid out over there. I wouldn't advise moving to see him just yet, though. He has it worse, but you're still cut up pretty badly."

Matt craned his neck, ignoring the pins and needles assaulting his entire body, and attempted to get a look at L. All he managed to catch was a glimpse of pale skin and obsidian hair before Mello pushed him back down, careful to avoid touching his chest. Matt turned his gaze on his lover, and realized with a start that there was no orange tint obscuring his vision—his goggles were gone. "My…my goggles?" he asked shakily.

Mello wordlessly reached to the bedside table and handed them over, murmuring, "I cleaned them up for you. You would barely have been able to see through all the…all the blood."

"Ah…" Matt trailed off nervously. "I see." He lowered his head, staring at his goggles. He didn't put them on; he just stared down at them bleakly. There was an elephant in the room, and neither Matt nor Mello were willing to address it just yet.

"So…" Mello started, running his fingers along the white sheets. "Do you think you can tell me what happened?"

Matt refused to meet his lover's gaze. "No."

Mello raised a brow. "Matt, I understand that you don't want to talk about… _this,_ whatever it is, but I have a right to know. How terrified do you think I was when I saw you on the ground, covered in blood?"

Matt suppressed an amused snort. So, Mello was in one of his rare sentimental moods, then. He supposed that he understood—after all, it wasn't every day that you stepped out of an elevator and found your lover stretched out across a bloodstained floor. "I'm sorry."

"I know you're sorry, but I still need to know. I have a _right_ to know. Look, Near isn't here at the moment—if you tell me, then he won't be listening in and commenting on everything that went down."

"He'll still have to know," Matt responded dully. "I'll have to tell the story again, and I'd rather not."

"I'll tell it for you. No, wait—we'll tell it together. Just…please, Matt. Tell me. Tell me before Near shows up. He's down in the investigation room now, and he doesn't know that you've woken up."

Matt dipped his head even further, refusing to look up even more so than before. He wasn't quite sure how the mess at the Teito Hotel had left him feeling…on one hand, he was thrilled to have L back, safe and sound…but on the other hand…Kira had done this. Kira had hurt L in this way, and set Beyond upon him like some sort of rabid dog. How could he do this? How could Light do this?

And that, Matt thought dismally, was the problem—he was unable to see Light as Kira. He still thought that Light was behind the mask, that his morals would stop him from hurting the one he loved so dearly. But…it wasn't Light. It just…wasn't. If only it hadn't taken _this_ to make him see that. He'd been so convinced that he'd even gone against the other successors. He hadn't told them about L's plan. "Mello…" he said at last, his voice low and dark.

Mello frowned deeply, displaying a concerned look that Matt seldom had the opportunity to look upon. "Matt?" he asked softly.

"I betrayed you."

That clearly hadn't been what Mello was expecting; he reeled back as if he'd been struck, a stunned look on his face. "You…you what?"

"Betrayed you. I did."

"H…how?"

"I knew what was going to happen…I knew what L was planning. I had every opportunity to tell you, Mells, but I _couldn't._ No, that's not right—I _didn't,_ that's all there is to it. I knew that L was going to confront Kira, I knew that this would happen, and I didn't do _anything!_ And now look what's happened…L…he's hurt because of me."

Mello raised both hands, palms facing outwards calmingly. "Woah, woah! You're saying that L did this? He had a plan, and he knew where Kira was?"

Matt looked up at his lover, and was hardly able to meet those fierce, chocolate orbs. "Yes…" he whispered. "L knew where Kira was. I suspect that he knew, that he _has known,_ ever since he spoke to Kira privately."

"But…what about the Yellow Box?" Mello demanded, sounding confused. "He said that Kira's master plan would be carried out there, on the New Year."

"He lied. He knew that if he gave you a time and a location, you wouldn't suspect that he was planning anything beforehand. He just said it to throw you off. And then he found a way to get his hands on a few doses of sedative, and he put it into our food. Except, I didn't drink the tea he gave me, and so I only got half a dose, and I woke up early. I tried so hard to wake you, Mells, but you wouldn't move! I couldn't do anything but follow, and hope I got to him in time! And now…look what I've done."

Mello's gaze hardened immediately, and Matt felt his stomach twist painfully. This was it…there would be no coming back from this. Mello would hate him for lying. He couldn't forgive him for getting L hurt so badly.

"You…" Mello ground out, eyes gleaming furiously. "You think this is _your_ fault?"

"I got him hurt," Matt responded in a low hiss. "It's all my fault…if only I could go back, I'd stop him before this happened…"

Mello's eyes narrowed dangerously, and the fury gleaming within increased exponentially. His whole body tensed, hands gripping onto the edge of Matt's bed, and for a moment he just stood there, glaring a hole in the sheets. Then, a frightening screech escaping him, he lurched to his feet and whirled around, sweeping an arm out and knocking everything off the bedside table. Pill bottles, a lamp, notebooks, pens, pencils, and a water bottle all went tumbling to the ground, clattering loudly. "You _idiot!_ " he roared, and Matt could do nothing but cower back in terror.

"I…I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Mells—"

"God, Matt, you're such a moron…" Mello hissed through clenched teeth. "This is _not_ your fault! Don't you dare try to apologize for what that _bastard_ did to you!"

Matt opened his mouth to respond, but then he paused—he hadn't made any mention of Beyond yet, and he hadn't said anything to the effect of Kira being the one to hurt him…so the only one Mello could be talking about was—

"L, that bastard!" Mello snarled, tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging furiously. "How selfish is he? Does he think he can just drag you into this, get you hurt, and just go on like everything's fine? _You_ had to get hurt because of _his_ damn plan! _You_ had to pull _him_ out of that hellish situation! _You_ had to protect _him,_ when he promised it would always be the other way around!"

A flash of understanding passed through Matt. And a moment later, a flash of horror followed. "You…you blame L," he realized in a hushed tone. "You're mad at _him_."

"Hell yeah, I'm furious with that little prick!" Mello yelled. "He's been such an _idiot_ lately, Matt…and now _this_ happens? He's lost it! I've tried with all my mental capacity to pretend that I want to rescue Light, all for _him._ I've beat myself up over making sure he's happy, over making sure that he doesn't turn suicidal, and now he goes and pulls shit like this…it's _not_ okay! He'll have to answer for what he's done this time, I swear it!"

"Mello, no!" Matt gasped. "Please, let me tell the whole story…then you'll understand!"

A low growl echoed in the blonde successor's throat, but he said nothing more. He just seated himself on Matt's bed and crossed his legs at the ankles, glaring a hole in the ground. He gave a short nod.

"Thank you," Matt whispered, relieved. "Like I said, L sedated all of us, but I only got half a dose. When I woke up, I went after him. Eventually I found myself at the Teito Hotel, and I realized that something was…off. When I went in, Beyond attacked me, and—" Here, Matt had to pause, raising a placating hand as Mello's eyes widened, a demented sort of fury building within them. "Mells, please, calm down!"

"That…that _monster_ touched you?" he breathed. "He's the one who did this?"

"Yes, he fought me, but I'm okay now, I swear!"

"Damn it, Matt, all those cuts are going to scar, you know! How can you be so nonchalant about this?"

On the inside, Matt wasn't nonchalant at all—quite the opposite. His lungs were tight, his stomach was twisted painfully, and his head felt light and fuzzy…but he couldn't act upset. If he acted upset, then Mello would fly off the handle, and it would all be over. There'd be no stopping him. "It's not important right now, Mello," he responded instead. "Please, let me finish." Upon a nod from his lover, he continued. "After a while, Beyond told me where to go to find L. I headed up, and when I did, Kira was waiting. He made some speech about justice, and gave me an index card—the index card!" Matt's fingers immediately shot to his chest, only to find himself devoid of his vest. "Mello, my vest—where is it?"

Frowning, the blonde successor reached behind him and plucked the bloodstained garment from the floor. It was slashed and painted red, but the pocket appeared untouched. Matt took the vest immediately, shoving his fingers into the folds, searching until he felt the coarse surface of the card Kira had give him. He withdrew it immediately, letting out a triumphant little cry.

"What is that?" Mello asked suspiciously.

"Kira gave me this just before he left. I didn't get the chance to read it, but…" he trailed off, flipping the card over, laying the side with the black printout against his leg. He stared down at the card, stared down at those bloodstains and tiny red letters, written in what Matt realized now was not red ink, but blood. And what he read there…what he saw, staring up at him accusingly… "No way," he whispered. "This…this can't be right."

"What is it?" Mello asked impatiently, making a grab for the card. He easily yanked it away from his lover, and his eyes dipped to the scarlet font. A moment later he was staring up at Matt through wide eyes. "Is this for real?"

"I…I think it is. Kira told me that it was important, that I'd want it." Matt eyed the back of the card from between Mello's fingers. He could hardly believe what he was seeing there, written in that grisly ink.

 _New Year's Eve, 11:00, the burial site of the notebook._

Matt knew those words, knew what they meant. He remembered Light saying something, a long time ago, about how he'd buried his original Death Note beneath the ground in a forest. _The burial site of the Death Note…_ that had to be it. That forest, that temporary resting place for the world's least known and most deadly murder weapon, was where Kira intended to carry out his final plan. He was giving up his location—at least, his _future_ location—and that was all the successors really needed. With this information, Kira could be stopped.

Matt whispered, "Using this, we can put an end to this disaster."

"We can," Mello agreed, looking both suspicious and stunned the same time. "Why would he just…give this to you? Why would he tip his own hand?"

"I don't know," Matt responded. "He's said from the very beginning that this was a game…maybe he thinks he can't win unless we're all in the same place to _watch_ him win. But I don't think that matters at the moment, do you? If this is accurate, it means that there are only four days until we have to meet Light for the final confrontation! We'll find him, and when we do, we can take him down! Light won't know what hit him!

Mello's head snapped up. "You mean Kira."

"Oh…yes, I suppose I do." He hoped Mello wouldn't read too far into the verbal lapse, but it was no use—his expression was already twisting sourly, the excitement of learning Kira's location swiftly vanishing beneath a layer of bitter realization.

"I think I understand. This is why you didn't tell us what L was planning, isn't it?" he asked shortly. "You can't see Light as Kira, can you? Even after that bastard held a gun to your head, you can't tell the difference between the teenager and the murderer. You thought that if you told us, we'd follow L and kill Kira."

"Well—no, I just—"

"You were right."

He'd suspected as much. Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Matt responded, "I'm sorry, Mello, but I can't stomach the thought of killing him. I…I lied to you. I lied when I said I was okay with killing Light."

" _Kira,"_ Mello corrected in a low snarl. The index card fluttered to the ground, forgotten. "Matt, it's time for you to _open your eyes._ Look around you; do you see what that monster has done? Thousands upon thousands of people are dead, and most of them are innocents! He's tried to kill you, and he did _that_ to L!" He jabbed a finger in L's direction, but Matt still couldn't see, and Mello wasn't letting him up anytime soon. "This has gone beyond any notion of justice. This is _evil,_ and Kira knows it. _You_ know it. You just don't want to see it."

Matt remembered, a bitter feeling swelling within him, what Kira had said.

 _I am a monstrous sort of justice._

"I can't see it," Matt insisted, though it was difficult to ignore the pain, both mental and physical, caused by Kira's reign. "I can't see it, Mells."

The successor's eyes narrowed. And then, suddenly, he was scooping his arms beneath Matt's form and lifting him up, dragging him across the room.

"Hey!" Matt gasped. "Mello, what are you—?"

"Look at your _justice,_ Matt," Mello sneered, setting him on one of the beds. Even in anger, he wouldn't dare to hurt Matt further—though in his rush, the IV had been yanked out of his hand. "Look at what Kira would have you believe in!"

Matt slowly turned his gaze towards Mello's line of vision. He frowned as his eyes met a small lump in the sheets. He followed that lump up, and realized suddenly that it wasn't small, it was just part of a much larger lump that kept going up, and up, and up…and then, with a jolt, Matt realized that this was _L's_ cot, that the lump beneath the sheets was _L._ He could only see his face, but that was enough—it was bruised and crusted with blood, the skin split clean open by what could only have been Kira's hand. One eye was swollen nearly shut, and the slashing and bruising across his face almost looked like some sort of sadistic painting. There were dark purple marks around the detective's throat, and even more of said marks disappeared beneath the sheets.

"Do you see?" Mello growled.

Matt shook his head as if in a daze. "I…I can't…"

Baring his teeth, Mello took a handful of the sheets in one hand and yanked it back.

 _Oh_.

Matt felt as if he would throw up.

L's torso…his stomach…it was just as bad as his, if not worse. But it was clear that those bloody marks had not been made with a knife—rather, the skin had split from some terrible, blunt force…the same blunt force that had no doubt broken L's ribs so terribly.

"Kira did this?" Matt rasped, though he already knew the answer. He'd carried L back from the hotel, but hadn't realized the extent of his injuries until this moment.

"And more," Mello responded in a low tone. "His shoulder was dislocated, and he had a severe concussion. Do you see? Do you see why you _can't_ support Light any longer? He's gone, Matt. I'm sorry, but…he's gone."

The brunette looked away from his lover, choking back tears. He loved L. He loved him like an older brother, and he'd come to care for Light on a similar level. "I can't just _kill_ him," he rasped, summarizing all the flowing emotions that so tormented him.

"You don't have to be the one to kill him," Mello said immediately. "Just don't _help_ him. Don't help _L."_

"If I hadn't helped him, he would have died."

Mello was silent. He jerked his head away, staring up at the ceiling, and sighed deeply. "You didn't really have a choice in that situation. But if you'd told us what was happening earlier, if you hadn't _betrayed_ us, then this would never have happened. Do you understand that, Matt? Do you understand how badly you've betrayed us?"

"…Yes. I do."

"Then _promise_ me, Matt. Promise me that if L gets any more funny ideas, you'll tell us immediately. Promise me that while you may disapprove of our methods, you'll still see this through to the end. Promise that you won't betray us again. Promise that you won't betray _me_ again."

The bastard was manipulating him. Matt _knew_ that Mello was using his emotions against him, and he didn't care, because he deserved it. It was true; he'd betrayed his own lover by not telling him what was happening, and now he would have to pay the price. "I…" he trailed off. _Look at what Kira has done to L,_ he thought miserably. _If Light was still in there…if there was a chance that he was coming back…would he really have allowed Kira to do this? I know that if I were in his shoes, I would give my life to stop myself from hurting Mello. I'd throw everything I had at my possessor, and I wouldn't stop until one of us was dead. And perhaps…perhaps that has already happened. Perhaps Light is already dead, having exhausted his energy some time ago. And even if he's still in there, even if he's still buried beneath the madness…he should have been able to save L from being hurt. If he couldn't overcome Kira then, when he was hurting L, then there's no hope that he'll be able to overthrow him now. Not now, not ever. So maybe…just maybe…this is the right choice to make. Maybe it's time for me to stop being childish and accept the truth._

"Matt," Mello urged.

The successor nodded shortly. "Yes," he whispered, in a tone so low that it was barely audible. "I promise you, Mello. I promise you all of those things and more."

The blonde's gaze softened considerably. "And will you promise me, Matt, above all else, that when the time comes…you will let us do what needs to be done?"

"I won't kill him," Matt repeated.

"You don't have to kill him. But when the time comes, you cannot stand in the way. Will you promise me that, Matt?"

There was a long period of silence. But that long period didn't last as long as it should have, for Matt was soon breaking it with two whispered words. "I promise."

"Good." Mello moved his lover back to the bed without a second thought, placing him back onto the sheets as someone would a porcelain doll. "Now, Matt, you should rest."

Matt nodded numbly, but didn't allow himself to fall back against the pillows. Instead, he sat, chest and stomach burning, and fought back tears. "Mello…" he choked out. "I'm…" He was unable to get the other word out for a long moment, for the instant he opened his mouth, Mello's arms wrapped around him and pulled him impossibly close.

"Hush," the other successor murmured. "You don't have to say it again. I know."

"No, I have to!" Matt rasped. "God, Mello, I'm—I'm so _sorry…_ "

"I know," Mello whispered, tangling a hand in his lover's hair. "It's going to be okay now, Matt. I swear to you, this will all end soon, and you'll never have to worry about that monster again."

Matt choked out a laugh, but it was so distorted that he was certain that Mello couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. _Monster…_ he repeated. _But tell me, Mello, which monster are you referring to? Kira? Beyond? L?_ He laughed again, but Mello took it as sob, and crushed him closer.

His chest hurt, Matt thought—it burned with every move Mello made against him—but he didn't care. He couldn't care, not now. And so he sat there, arms locked around the body of the one he loved, and buried his head in his shoulder.

When the tears began flowing, neither said a word.

†††

Waking up was terrible.

L tossed and turned uncomfortably, struggling to find a position that was even somewhat tolerable for his aching body. He made to turn onto his side, but someone was suddenly by his side, their hands firmly holding him on his back.

"No," he heard them say. "You can't turn on that side."

L groaned and pulled away weakly. He slowly became aware of a throbbing in his head. Then a throbbing in his ribs. Then in his head. Oh… his _head._ He groaned painfully the dull ache became sharper and sharper, and L wondered briefly if this was anything like what Light had felt during his fight against Kira.

Then he felt the sensation of something entering his bloodstream, and the pain eased slightly. The darkness was pulling at him again, welcoming him into its arms. L had the fleeting thought that he should wake up, tell the person watching over him that he was okay. But no sooner had he processed the thought than it slipped away, and he faded back into darkness.

†††

The next time L woke up, he stayed awake. His eyes fluttered open blearily, flickering closed for a heartbeat in response to the bright light overhead. After a few harsh blinks the white spots in his vision faded, and he was met with the sight of a large room with a white ceiling and walls. The infirmary. L slowly wiggled his fingers and toes, testing to make sure he could still move them. When they responded well, he moved to an assessment of his legs, then torso, and— _oh._ That hurt! L hissed as he felt a dull burn in his ribs. His arms were the next extremities that he checked, and he was displeased to feel a deep ache emitting from his left shoulder. He tried to move it, and found that though it was painful, it wasn't impossible. So then, his shoulder was no longer dislocated. He moved his investigation to his head, where he felt the greatest pain. It was no longer unbearable, but it still panged and tingled with muted pain when he attempted to think above a whisper. He propped himself up on his right elbow and pushed himself up to lean against the headboard.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, sleeping beauty!"

L looked up slowly. His eyes fell upon Mello, sitting by the bed across from him. Matt was sitting up in said bed, his eyes resting brightly on L. The detective frowned. Something was different about Mello. He seemed…angry. But that anger was so cleanly hidden, it was impossible to pinpoint—and he didn't seem eager to display it. Who was he angry with then? Was it Kira? Beyond? _No, no, I can't dwell on that now—there are more pressing matters at hand._ L focused on Matt, who was lying on the cot across from his. "Are you alright?" he asked seriously.

"I'm fine," came the response. "I've been up for a few hours now, but Watari doesn't want me out of bed yet. I'm more worried about _you_."

L flinched as a particularly painful jolt made itself known in his head. "My head hurts," he reported.

"That's a good thing," Matt responded. "It means you're not dead yet."

L found himself unable to laugh. "I presume I have a concussion, yes?"

"Yeah, and it's pretty bad," said Matt. "I'm a bit surprised you're even awake right now, let alone speaking so well. We had you on morphine, and between that and the concussion, we expected you to be out for a few days."

"We gave you oxygen therapy and medication to keep your blood pressure from dropping," Mello explained. "That took care of possible brain swelling, and helped out with some of the effects of the concussion. Other than that you have a few cracked ribs, and you'll have to lay off on using that arm for a while." He made a gesture towards the left side of L's body.

"I figured as much." L's eyes raked down Matt's form. He was shirtless, and his torso was covered in bandages. There was a large cotton square pressed against his forehead, and his goggles, though clean and clearly undamaged, were resting on his lap rather than on his face. "What happened to you?" he asked.

"Beyond Birthday," Matt said. "He was waiting for me in the lobby. He beat me up pretty good, but in the end he let me get you out of there before you died."

L frowned as he struggled to process the information. His brain was running slowly, and he found himself unable to articulate his confusion for several moments. "How did you know where to find me?" he asked after a long pause.

Matt shrugged. "It was complete luck. I'm sure you know that you only hit me with half a dose of that sedative. I woke up early, and after that I left the building, picked a direction, and Beyond was waiting for me in the hotel once I got there." He jerked a thumb in Mello's direction. "I already filled him in on what happened, and we just told Near about an hour ago. He's down with the task force now, but he should be called in shortly."

There was another pause as L struggled to remember. There was something he was missing, something important… what was it? His mind reached for the hidden answer.

"Oh, and there's another thing," Matt went on softly. He reached into his vest, which was slung across a nearby chair, and retrieved a bloodstained index card from the pocket. He held it up. "Kira gave me this just before he left."

L winced. He strongly suspected that he knew what was written on that index card.

And sure enough, Matt's next words were just as damning as L feared.

"Kira said that at 11:00 on New Year's Eve he would be at the place where he buried the Death Note."

There it was. The successors knew the truth—or rather, part of the truth. They did not, after all, know what Kira's ultimate goal was. They didn't know that he wanted to become a shinigami. And they didn't know about the bullet.

"The bullet!" L burst out, eyes widening. He struggled to sit up, but his entire body screamed in protest, forcing him to fall back against the pillows with a pained whimper. "Matt…" he gasped out, wincing as flickers of pain laced up and down his spine. "There was a gun, a gun on the bedside table! Please tell me you still have it!"

Frowning deeply, Matt said, "Yeah, Kira told me to take it with me. And there was just something about the way he said it, something about the way he was staring at the thing…I had a feeling that it was important. Was I correct? Is it important?"

"I need to see it!" L insisted. "Give it to me!"

Mello raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Woah, woah! You're not allowed to have a gun, remember? Especially not when you're concussed!"

Matt's eyes locked onto L, the gears of his mind turning endlessly. Finally he leaned over and retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table. He flipped it open and dialed a number. A moment later he was saying, "Watari, could you get that gun I gave you and bring it up here? Have Near come as well. Yes, thank you. Goodbye." He hung up.

"Thank you," L sighed, slightly relieved. He had to know. He had to know if he still had the all-important bullet. If he didn't…well, he didn't want to think about what would happen. Kira had assured him that until he used the thing, the Shinigami King would return it to him no matter what happened. But L wasn't so sure—the bastard hadn't exactly been kind to him as of late.

The doors of the infirmary opened, and Watari and Near entered. Watari was holding the gun gingerly in one hand.

"Let me see that!" L insisted.

Watari moved to his side after shooting a weary glance at Matt and Mello. "The gun is nonfunctional, as I'm sure you know, so don't go trying to use it." He handed the gun to L.

Immediately the detective popped open the clip and peered inside desperately. And then, there it was—the bullet, resting in one of the slots safely, just where Kira had left it. He felt relief wash through him as he turned the clip on its side and shook the bullet into the palm of his hand. "Thank god," he sighed. He was aware of the various pairs of eyes watching him curiously. He looked up at them, a small smile on his face. This was good…so long as he had this bullet, so long as he had a way to save the one he loved, he could handle everything else.

 _But you've been backed into a corner,_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. _You had your chance, and you failed. Now, the task force and the successors no doubt know where Kira will be on the New Year, and you have no way of getting to him beforehand. You know full well that if everyone goes to confront Kira in that forest on the New Year, he'll be killed—or if not that, then everyone_ else _will die, including you, and Kira will become the god of the new world. You have no way of getting to him ahead of time, seeing as he has left the Teito Hotel. You have no way of confronting Kira alone and using the bullet on him. That means that you'll be forced to go with everyone else on the New Year to confront him—but if that happens, then everyone else will be shooting at him in an attempt to end his life. You most likely won't be the one to hit Kira first—and even if you are, the successors will kill him long before they realize what's happened. They won't give him the benefit of the doubt; they'll end his life without question. That means that you have limited options. You could tell the successors that you want to be the one to kill Kira, and no one else. That way, they'd let you be the one to fire upon him, and you could use the King's gift without fear. No one else would be trying to kill him. But that in and of itself poses a problem—the successors will never believe that you want to be the one to kill Kira. There's no explanation you could give them that would fully convince them of your willingness to end the life of the one you love. You've already painted yourself as the loving, half-crazed boyfriend, willing to do anything to get your lover back. And as is such, there's no way the successors will believe that you've just suddenly decided to kill Kira. They'll be suspicious, and they'll refuse you. More likely, they'll suspect that you're planning something and take the necessary precautions. You won't have the chance to use the bullet, and it will all be over. But on the other hand, if you just outright tell them about the Shinigami King and the bullet, they'll most likely believe that you've lost your mind. The successors are creatures of thought and logic; if you just start spouting crap about a mysterious bullet, they're not going to believe you. They'll lock you in the loony bin and go confront Kira without you._

L huffed, twisting his fingers into the sheets. He was aware of the successors and Watari watching him, clearly concerned, but he couldn't bring himself to care. _What am I supposed to do, then?_ He demanded of himself.

And that little voice whispered back, _you choose the lesser of two evils. On one hand, you tell the successors you want to kill Kira, and they don't believe you, choosing instead to end his life without your input. On the other hand, you tell them the truth, and they'll most likely believe that you've snapped—but there's always the possibility that you can make them understand. And if they_ do _understand, then they'll help you kill Kira and save Light. So which one gives you the most leeway? Which one gives you the greater chance of success?_

L knew the answer. He knew it, and he didn't like it, but…he had no choice. He'd backed himself into the metaphorical corner, and now he was paying the price. That little voice was right— _he_ was right—if he wanted any chance at all of saving the one he loved, then he was going to have to lend himself to insanity for a while.

"I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you," L began slowly, holding the bullet up for them to observe. Without another word he pried open his amulet and slipped it into the compartment beside the folded page of the Death Note.

"Just what do you mean by that?" Near asked calculatingly, twirling a lock of white hair between his fingers.

"I will explain, but you have to promise me first to save all your questions until the end of the tale." He looked around at the successors and Watari. "Understood?"

There was a short, awkward silence, but after a moment all in attendance nodded their confirmation.

L offered a reassuring smile. "I will start from the beginning," he began, keeping his eyes trained on the sheets. He didn't want to look at the successors, not yet—he didn't want to see their expressions of confusion, of disappointment. "You see, I knew that you three were plotting to kill Kira on sight, and I couldn't allow that to happen. So many weeks ago I devised a plan of my own, and that plan involved sneaking out after you all went to sleep to meet Misa Amane. You see, back when Light was still with me he told me of the shinigami Rem and her attachment to one Misa Amane. So I went to see Miss Amane in hopes that Rem would be watching over her. Luckily, she was. I knocked Misa out and had a conversation with Rem. She told me that in order to separate Light and Kira I would have to speak with the Shinigami King, and to do that he would have to be the one to invite me to the shinigami realm. Shortly after that conversation the Shinigami King did indeed invite me to speak with him. While in the shinigami realm he told me that he had a method of separating Light from Kira without killing the former.

"He gave me a bullet, the bullet that I just slipped into the amulet you saw. He told me that if I could corner Kira and shoot him in the head with that bullet, it would remove Light's memories, thus expelling Kira." Seeing Near about to say something, L held up a hand. "I'm not done yet. While I was in the shinigami realm, the King told me what Kira's plan is. He plans to carry out a ritual on the night of the New Year. And the ritual that he will perform will turn him into a shinigami. He will become a god. And should this be allowed to happen, Light will permanently be vanquished, and the bullet will no longer have any affect, for it is impossible for a shinigami to erase another shinigami's memories. But if we can get to him beforehand, if you help me on the night of the New Year, then we can save Light. We can shoot him in the head with the bullet, and his memories will vanish." He looked up at his successors. "That is all."

There was a terribly long pause as Watari and the successors stared at L with blank expressions. Then Watari said, slowly, "L, you have a concussion. You aren't thinking clearly."

"What?" L gasped, his tone indignant. He'd known that his story would sound insane, but he'd hoped for at least _some_ level of understanding, _some_ level of trust.

"Yeah," Mello agreed, and some of that mysterious anger from earlier was back, shadowing his gaze. "I know you're torn up about losing Light, but you don't have to make things up. Quite frankly, it's an insult to everything we've done so far."

"But it's true!" L protested. "He's going to become a shinigami! The only thing that can help him is the bullet!"

"Look, L," Near said sharply. "We've been very patient with you throughout this whole fiasco. We've made it our first priority to make you feel like things will turn out okay. Even though we know it's impossible, we've humored you with fantasies of Light returning to you unharmed. But this is where I, at least, draw the line." The boy's gray eyes were chips of ice. "I will grant you that shinigami exist, and that the shinigami realm and the Shinigami King are things that could quite conceivably exist, but there is no such thing as a bullet that can kill Kira without killing Light. It's not possible. Even if such a bullet did exist, there is no way whoever was shot with it would survive."

"It doesn't pierce the skull!" L protested weakly. "It just has to touch him, that's all…"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Near snarled. L flinched back, having never seen the successor show such emotion. "The force required to enter the brain would kill whoever was shot! There is _no way_ that Light would survive. Face it, L. It's over! Your boyfriend is _gone,_ and your delusions won't change that!"

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"Near…" Matt whispered.

"Be quiet!" the first ranked successor spat, turning on the younger. "Don't you get it? There's no reason to keep up this little farce any longer! You heard him yourself, Matt, he knows that we're planning to kill Kira!" Snapping his head back around to L, Near bit out, "This has gone on for too long, L! I've sat back along with the other successors and let this whole disaster run its course. I've let you run yourself in circles with your pointless attempts to save someone who I _know_ can't be saved. I thought that once Light was gone, once Kira was dead, you'd be able to return to the way you once were, but I see now that I've been foolish. Perhaps if I'd just acted sooner, if I'd urged the other successors towards another course of action, this could have been avoided. But I see now that you've been damaged beyond repair. Quite honestly, I'm not even sure that you'll _ever_ be able to return to the way you once were, and it's all because of _him._ "

"Near—!" L attempted.

"No, L! Just _stop._ I know you don't want to hear it, and you've been trying as hard as you can to deny it for all these months, but it's _too late!_ Light was consumed by Kira long, long ago, and it's no longer possible for him to return. It was _never_ possible for him to return. And now, whether you like it or not, we're going to have to do something to end this madness. It's gone on for too long, and we've allowed you to run yourself into insanity. I am sorry that it has come to this, L, but it is too late to change the course of fate. On the New Year we will kill Kira, and you will see that you have been foolish. When he dies, and Light fails to reappear, you will understand that this— _all of this_ —was just a pointless endeavor, and that you never really had a chance in the _first place!"_

That awful, all-encompassing silence fell over the room like a storm cloud, and for a long moment no words were exchanged. Near's chest was heaving with the effort of expending several months' worth of repressed anger all at once.

And then, finally, after what felt like forever, Near spoke again.

"I'll be in the investigation room," the white-haired boy whispered. His voice wavered dangerously. "Feel free to follow me whenever you like." With that, he strode straight through the double doors and stormed off down the hallway.

Watari turned to follow. "I will make sure he doesn't do anything rash," he said in explanation. Matt, Mello… please deal with this situation accordingly."

"Watari…" L whispered, horrified that even his oldest friend and guardian seemed to be giving up on him.

"I am sorry," the inventor sighed. "But this has gone on long enough. I told you long ago that should you cease to function properly, I would relieve you of your duties as L. And as unfortunate as it may be, it appears that the time has come."

Nothing could describe the liquid ice running through L's veins, nothing could compare to the feeling of disbelief and horror. "Watari?" he asked, voice shaking.

But the inventor didn't turn back, and a moment later he was gone, leaving L staring past the empty doorway.

"I'm not making this up," L whispered, though the enthusiasm had left his voice. "I swear I'm not… I spoke to the King, and he gave me this bullet!"

"Oh, L," Matt choked, his eyes shimmering. "I'm sorry…"

And at the same time, eyes blazing with anger, Mello snarled, "Get a grip!"

L jumped, locking eyes with the blonde successor. And there was that anger, that brutal emotion that had been building up in Mello's heart throughout the whole conversation with Near, and possibly for many weeks beforehand.

"Mello!" Matt chastised, his voice firm. "We've already discussed—!"

"This…this _lunatic_ hurt you!" Mello ground out, his whole body shaking. "And now he has the nerve to stand here, spouting bullshit about some goddamn magic bullet? A fucking _magic bullet,_ Matt!"

"Mells, please, just calm down!" Matt begged. "He's just shaken up; he's concussed! I'm sure once he comes around he'll realize that what he's saying is—"

Mello cut him off again. "He's not _going_ to come around! If he was going to snap back to his senses, he would have done it _before_ you had to drag his sorry ass back to headquarters and _collapse_ in the lobby!"

"You were the one who carried me back here?" L realized. "You collapsed?"

The words only seemed to anger Mello further. He snarled, teeth bared, and lurched to L's side, curling his fingers into the other male's collar. "That's right, you bastard, he collapsed on the floor of the lobby, bleeding like he'd just been through hell! And whose fault do you think it was? _Who put him there?"_

For a moment, L's voice refused to function. But a heartbeat later he managed to rasp, "I can fix it."

"You can fix it? You can _fix it?_ Just what the hell is there for you to fix, L?"

"I'll kill Kira!" L burst out. "The New Year is almost three days away, correct? When the confrontation with Kira happens, I'll have to shoot him before he has the chance to become a shinigami. After that, he'll die, Light will live, and everything will be fixed! If I can just shoot him, then I can fix the hell I've created!"

Mello's breath smelled distinctly of chocolate as he leaned in close, lips barely a centimeter away from L's flesh. "That's how you think you're going to _fix_ this disaster? That's what you think you're going to do?"

"Yes! Just let me shoot him, and—"

Mello cut him off. "You're not going to be shooting anyone."

L's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"You heard me, you cold bastard. You're not going to be shooting anyone."

"I know you don't want me to handle a gun, but—!"

"No," Mello sneered. "You don't understand. You're not going to be able to shoot anyone because _you're not going with us."_

L's eyes snapped up to meet Mello's, a flash of horror running through him. "What the hell do you mean I'm not going with you?" He looked to Matt, who was staring at him with a twisted, pitying expression. "What does he mean, Matt?"

The third ranked successor lowered his head mournfully, murmuring, "I'm sorry, L, but—"

"We've already spoken to Near," Mello spat. "He's agreed that you're in no state to confront Kira—and that was _before_ we heard your little story about a magical bullet and the shinigami who gave it to you."

"But—!"

" _Look_ at yourself!" Mello interrupted. You're lying in the infirmary with several broken ribs, a concussion, and a shoulder that you're not going to be able to move for a week. And on top of all that, you've gone completely _insane!_ You got Matt hurt, L, and if we let you come with us, there's no telling who you'll hurt this time. You could _kill_ someone, and you wouldn't care because you'd be so determined to save your precious little boyfriend!"

"But what about Light?" L protested, unable to hide just how badly his hands were shaking—how badly his whole _body_ was shaking. "He'll die without that bullet!"

"I don't think you understand," Mello breathed, his voice low and dangerous. "He's going to die either way, regardless of whether or not you and your pathetic lies are there. And so you're _not_ coming. End of story.

"Please, Mello, I have to be there!" L whimpered. "I can't let him die alone!"

Mello's eyes narrowed to slits. "There's no way around it. When we leave to confront Kira you will be bound and locked here so you cannot escape to follow us."

L opened his mouth, fully ready to argue, but no words came.

Mello went on, seemingly unaware of the detective's distress. "We plan to tell the task force that our plan of burning the notebook to get rid of Kira was a lie. Once we do that, and once they see what that monster did to you and Matt, even Soichiro should be convinced that his son is gone. And after that, they'll be more than willing to help us kill Kira—and if they're not, then we'll just have to lock them away with you until this mess is over."

"No…" L whispered, barely able to comprehend the truth of what his successor was telling him. "Please, Mello—you can't do this!"

"I can and I have," the successor responded in a snarl. "And I don't regret a thing, you miserable excuse for a detective! You're supposed to be L! You're supposed to put emotions aside for the sake of the case, and yet here you are—!"

"Mello!" Matt interrupted. "Stop this!"

The older successor didn't even pause. "—risking everything, risking our entire investigation just to save one boy! It shouldn't matter to you if that boy is someone you care about, because you're _L!_ " He leaned in even closer. "Oh wait…" he growled. "I forgot…"

"Mello!" Matt tried again, only to receive the same response as before.

"You're not L any longer, are you? Not in title, at least. You've gone so far off the deep end that not even Watari trusts you anymore, and he _shouldn't!_ You're nothing more than a—"

" _Mello!"_ Matt screamed, shocking his lover into silence.

Mello turned his head, eyes wide and surprised. "Matt?" he whispered, seeming to realize that he'd overdone it. He turned his gaze back on L, and when he saw the shaking, trembling mess that had once been the world's greatest detective, he immediately released him. "Oh god, L…" he rasped.

L pushed him away with what little strength he had left. His whole body was shaking violently, and nothing he did was stopping it.

"I'm sorry," Mello continued, expression twisted into one of conflicted guilt. "I was just angry, I didn't realize—!"

L shook his head faintly, unable to find the words to respond to Mello's harsh treatment. He clenched his fingers around the sheets, ignoring the faint pain lacing up his spine, and pleaded silently with the successor to leave him alone. He didn't want to hear it, he _couldn't_ hear it—he didn't want to know what he'd done to Light, and what was going to happen next.

"L?" Mello asked, voice shaking guiltily.

L shook his head again, and he couldn't respond, couldn't speak to him, couldn't face him—and then Matt was moving, and somehow, someway, he was yanking Mello back and shoving him away.

The next thing L heard was Matt's voice, snarling, "Leave this place immediately!" The next thing he saw was Mello's stunned look, and the way he recoiled as if he'd been struck.

"What?" he demanded softly. "You want—?"

"I want you to leave."

"But Matt—!"

" _No_. You're just making things worse."

There was a long, painful pause. But then Mello huffed, ran a hand through his hair, and stormed out of the room without another word.

The instant he was gone, L found the will to speak. "Matt…" he whispered. "You don't want to hurt Light, do you? You know him, you're friends with him…you understand. So why won't you help me? You've done it once before; can you do it again? Can you help me get to him and shoot him before it's too late?"

"Oh, L…" Matt whispered.

Those two words said it all. He'd made a gamble by telling his successors and Watari the truth, and now, it seemed that that gamble was lashing out and grabbing him by the throat. He'd lost Watari's trust, he'd lost Near's trust, he'd lost Mello's trust…had he lost Matt's as well?

"I don't want him to die," Matt went on softly. "You know that I came to regard Light as a friend. But now…look at what he's done to you. I think…I think that Mello and Near are right. I think that it's too late. I'm sorry, L, I truly, am."

"Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that…that you're prepared to kill Light?" L rasped.

Matt shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I can't. Because I'm not prepared. But just because I'm not prepared doesn't mean that it doesn't have to happen. Think about it, L—Light loves you. He loves you more than anyone else. Don't you think that if he were still in there, he would have stopped Kira from harming you? I think that if there was even a slight possibility of him returning, it would have happened then and there."

"You would give up so easily?"

"L…" Matt reached out a hand, and though he was situated on another bed entirely, L could almost feel the phantom touch running along his shoulder. "It has _not_ been easy, for _any_ of us. All of us—you especially—have fought since the beginning to fix everything. But it just…it just hasn't worked. It's been months, L, nearly _four months,_ since this all began. And now there's a viable end in sight, and…I, for one, intend to take it. The successors intend to take it as well."

"You can't," L whispered. "You can't kill him."

"I'm sorry," came the response. "But you must have known it would lead to this. Right from the beginning, Light begged you to kill him. Even _he_ knew, it seems, that this is where the road would end."

L shook his head. "No."

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm so sorry, L…but it has already been decided."

And wasn't that just the bitter truth? After all this work, all this effort expended fighting a seemingly hopeless battle, it was all about to come to an end.

The cogs and gears of fate were already in motion—and L had no way to tell just where they would take him.

†††

"Near, slow down!" Watari ordered, walking briskly to catch up with the teen.

"I can't do that," Near responded, his footsteps quickening as he headed for the investigation room. By now most of the task force should be working, seeing as it was nearly two in the afternoon. "Matt, Mello and myself have already agreed on a course of action, and I intend to carry it out."

"You're going to convince the task force to kill Kira, aren't you?" Watari questioned as he drew up beside Near.

"Yes."

"At least attempt to compose yourself before you face them!" Watari commanded. "If you go in there looking like a mess, they're not going to take you seriously!"

Near had reached the door to the investigation room now. He stopped, hand on the handle, and turned his head to regard the inventor standing beside him. He drew in several deep breaths, returning his flushed skin to its normal pale state. "I am sorry," he said. "I know that I have allowed my emotions to take over, but I find myself unable to stay calm. You saw him, Watari. L has cracked, both physically and mentally. Until Light is dead he will not be able to begin the recovery process—and even then, I have my doubts that said process will ever be completed. So I intend to end this as soon as possible by following the course of action the successors have chosen."

Watari sighed sadly. "You are right, of course. I'd hoped, however, that this could be avoided. But as of this moment it appears to be the only choice we have. Go on then, Near. Convince the task force to kill Light Yagami."

Near shot the inventor a thankful glance, then pushed open the door and entered the investigation room, leaving Watari behind.

"Near!" Matsuda exclaimed, spotting the white-haired boy as he entered the room.

Near stalked over to L's chair and flopped down in it. "Something has occurred," he said shortly.

"What's going on?" Mogi asked flatly. His eyes had bags under them. No doubt he was still mourning the death of Aizawa, who had been his close friend. "We haven't seen any of the Wammy kids at all today."

"L made a foolish mistake and it nearly got him killed," Near said flatly, though he longed to spit the words with the venom he felt in his heart.

"What?"

"Seriously?"

"Why? How?"

Near tilted his head back as the questions rolled over him. "L went after Kira on his own hoping to separate him from Light. He has deluded himself into thinking that he has a bullet that will kill Kira and leave Light unharmed. He has, in a manner of speaking, temporarily lost his mind."

"Temporarily?" Soichiro asked carefully.

"Once this matter is resolved I have hope that he will return to normal," Near explained. "As I was saying, L went to the hotel Kira was staying at and confronted him. Kira and L ended up in a fight, and L was severely injured."

Gasps flooded the room. "Is he going to be okay?" Matsuda demanded, eyes wide.

"He suffered from a concussion, several broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder, but he will be okay soon enough. Unfortunately he wasn't the only one to get caught up in this mess. Matt followed L to the hotel and was attacked by Beyond Birthday. Beyond beat and cut Matt within an inch of his life, but he too will recover with time." Near reached over to his computer and pulled up a live video feed of the infirmary, projecting it onto one of the large monitors on the wall, making sure the audio was off in case something incriminating was being said. Immediately he felt the disgust and horror rolling off the task force in waves as a result of seeing what Kira and Beyond had done. He was sure that seeing the normally "unbreakable" L in this state was shocking for them.

"My son did this?" Soichiro rasped.

"He did," Near responded. "Do you see now, task force? Do you see what Kira is capable of? He nearly killed L, and Matt was injured in the crossfire."

Near focused his gaze on Soichiro in particular, waiting to see his reaction to Kira's handiwork. His expression was almost nauseated, disgusted beyond belief. Good… that was the emotion Near had to manipulate. He remembered, of course, that back when Soichiro had first learned his son's true identity, he'd appeared less than enthusiastic about saving him. He'd seemed to almost _want_ his son dead, as a sort of punishment for what he'd done. Of course, Soichiro didn't understand just how fully Light and Kira were two separate people—if he did, then Near very much doubted he would have even considered killing his son. But as things stood, he was already inclined to put an end to Kira, regardless of Light's involvement. Seeing L and Matt like this, beaten and bleeding, would be the perfect thing to push not just him, but the rest of the task force over the edge.

"Now do you understand?" Near questioned softly, adding just the right amount of remorse to his tone. "I understand that he is your son, Mr. Yagami, but he is _Kira._ He has murdered thousands of innocents and criminals, and now he has made an attempt on L's life."

"I thought he _loved_ L," Matsuda whispered.

"He did," Near confirmed. "Kira has so consumed Light Yagami that he no longer has the control to save someone he loves. If Light had even the slightest chance of returning to himself, don't you think he would have pulled himself together when Kira was hurting L?"

Soichiro's expression turned sour at the thought of L and Light's relationship, but he seemed fully inclined to believe Near's words. Of course, Near thought, Soichiro wasn't going to take much convincing—he was already leaning towards the side of justice. And once he made that fateful decision to kill Kira, the rest of the task force would follow, like lost sheep to their master.

Near went on. "The truth is, Light is gone. He's been gone for a long time now, and L's been too distraught to see it. Our only option now is to kill him. If it makes you feel any better, Light will by dying for a noble cause—getting rid of Kira. He would want this. Remember, he was the one who begged L to end his life before this all started. I guarantee you that he wishes for death. And who are we to deny him?"

Near's eyes were drawn to Mogi in particular. The large man was sitting, his back slumped and head bowed, eyes studying the floor. After a moment he looked up at Near, a sad look in his eyes. "Near," he said softly. "I've thought from the beginning that Kira deserved to die. But once it turned out that Light was going to get caught in the crossfire… I wasn't so sure. And now, hearing that Light watched Kira beat L and did _nothing_ to stop it… I can't just let that go." He straightened his back. "I vote that we kill Kira. I'm sorry, Chief Yagami."

"Hey, you can't just decide to kill him!" Matsuda protested. "What happened to burning the notebook?"

Near scoffed, "That was a lie. I devised that little scheme along with the other successors, and told it to you so you would help us locate Kira. The three of us knew before any of you that Light was beyond saving—but until he did something that _proved_ just how far gone he was, we knew that we wouldn't be able to convince you to kill him. Now, Kira has finally proven himself as the monster he is, and as is such, the successors have decided to come clean. The truth is, we were never certain that burning the notebook would work. And even if we guessed correctly, and burning the notebook _is_ the same as relinquishing possession, that course of action would still be foolish and borderline suicidal. If Kira had any suspicion that we were really going to win by burning the notebook, he'd write our names, regardless of what he's promised."

His speech left Matsuda looking stunned. "But… you can't just kill him!" he protested weakly.

"This is justice," Near insisted coldly. " _Real_ justice, not Kira's twisted version."

"But…" Matsuda said, looking uncertain. "But, if you kill Kira for his crimes, aren't you just like him?"

Near's eyes narrowed. "It seems that way, yes. But I, for one, would rather lower myself to Kira's standards for just one minute rather than letting a murderer continue to kill innocent people without mercy. If we do not do this, then he will kill us, and there will be no one left with the power to stop him." Without waiting for a response, Near turned to Soichiro. "Mr. Yagami, I realize how hard this must be for you." That was a lie, he knew—Soichiro's mind was already made up. He could see it in the cold, resolute straightening of his spine, in the determined gleam in his eyes. "I do not wish to go ahead with this plan without your consent." _That_ wasn't a lie. Near would definitely rather have Soichiro's consent, but if he refused to offer it then Near wouldn't hesitate to lock him up with L and take the rest of the task force to dispose of Kira—not that there was any risk of that.

Soichiro dropped his head into his hands. He was silent for a few long minutes, and Near thought with some amusement that he was doing a very good job of acting conflicted when his mind was already very firmly made up. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and raspy, and his head remained buried in his hands. "I have worked my entire life to raise a son I could be proud of," he murmured dejectedly. "I struggled to instill within him a strong sense of justice and the longing for a world without evil achieved through the justice system. He grew up intelligent, strong-willed, and with the sense of justice he needed. And then… and then _this_ happened. That same sense of justice that I had worked so hard to give him was turned against him like a weapon, twisted and corrupted by Kira. As the person who taught him the meaning of justice, I feel at fault for this whole mess."

For just a moment, Near was almost concerned—why hadn't he agreed yet? But then he calmed himself, remembering that it was normal for humans to show emotion before making such momentous decisions. Even though Soichiro had already made up his mind, even though he was already prepared to grab a gun and charge out to meet Kira, he was still conflicted. He still felt pain, and he was displaying that pain for the task force to see.

He went on, "I tried as hard as I could to keep my son on the right path. But now he has strayed from it, and I no longer have hope that he can pull himself back. That is my fault. And if only thing I can do to atone for my crimes is kill my son..." He raised his head slowly, and Near saw that his eyes were slightly puffy. He was holding back tears—this was affecting him more than Near thought. "…then I will do just that."

Matsuda's expression was nothing short of heartbroken. "Chief, you can't!"

"I must." His expression hardened, his hands clenched at his sides. "If it is what it takes, then I will kill Light Yagami. I will kill my son."

And as the rest of the task force chattered nervously, exchanging horrified, disbelieving words, Near choked back a smile. He felt the corners of his lips turning upwards, felt his teeth begging to be bared—but he forced it back down in favor of whispering a single word under his breath, a single word meant for the monster he was trying to destroy.

"Checkmate."

 **By the end of the next chapter, the final confrontation will be underway.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please be sure to leave a review on the way out!**


	24. Fire in the Sky

_**Important:**_ **there were some shenanigans going on with FFN when I uploaded the last chapter. I didn't even get the normal email alert that I'd posted, and I'm suspicious that some/all of this story's followers didn't get the normal email...with that being said, _make sure you've read chapter twenty-three first!_ If you haven't read it, then you've missed some pretty important information! **

**To Beist: Oh, don't worry, things aren't going to be _that_ easy for our favorite detective. He'll just have to find a different way out, without the help of the King ;)**

 **Chapter 24: Fire in the Sky**

There were three days until the New Year.

No—more accurately, there were three days until New Year's _Eve_.

Matt was able to get out of bed now. Some of his deeper cuts still oozed blood, and his stitches had to be covered with large bandages, but he was well enough to walk around and converse with the task force. Of course, it had taken a bit of work to force his stiff muscles to move once more. The morning after his conversation with L, Mello entered the infirmary and cheerfully ordered his lover to get out of bed—and when said lover informed him politely that there was no way in hell he was moving, Mello didn't waste a single moment in wrapping an arm beneath his shoulders and hauling him upright. After that there was a sudden stream of cussing (whether it came from Mello or Matt wasn't so easy to tell) as both grappled momentarily.

"I'm not getting out of bed!" Matt insisted, groaning painfully as his muscles were suddenly forced to support him.

"Tough shit," Mello responded, though there was a layer of amusement beneath his harsh tone. "You're not spending the next three days lying in bed! If you want to be strong enough to help us take down Kira, you're going to have to get up _now_ and start moving again!"

"I don't want to!" Matt argued petulantly.

"Tough. Shit. Get the hell out of bed!" Mello kept Matt from falling back into bed with one arm around his shoulders, the other looping around his waist. "We're going down to the investigation room, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"Mells, come on!" Matt protested. He tugged against his lover's grasp, but his efforts were halfhearted. Despite the grave atmosphere hanging over the building, he let out a short laugh. "It _hurts!"_

"And that, my dear friend…" Mello began, pulling him step by step towards the door, "…is why I'm getting you up _now_ rather than when we have to leave to go get Kira." He paused then, gaze flitting towards the corner of the infirmary, where L had decided to move. The dark-haired detective had moved himself into the farthest bed from the door, slotted in between two walls, and hadn't moved since. Mello lowered his voice, whispering into Matt's ear, "Sorry…I suppose I shouldn't mention killing Kira around him."

"No," Matt responded sadly, drawing away from his lover just enough to peer into the corner of the infirmary. L was curled up on his side, face turned towards the wall, though he clearly wasn't asleep. "He won't respond to anything I've said. I don't know if he's really _here_ mentally at the moment. I think you could say anything you want, and he wouldn't respond."

"Still…" Mello murmured, and Matt knew from just a single look into his lover's eyes that he was feeling guilty for what had happened earlier. "He _can_ hear us."

Matt nodded worriedly, looking over at the inert detective. He lowered his voice so that even if L were paying attention, he wouldn't be able to hear. "I'm worried, Mells…I think that this may be too much."

"He's L," Mello responded in a murmur. "I'm sure he can handle it."

"Watari stripped him of his title," Matt reminded him softly. "Until he gets himself under control, he's relieved of duty. And _think_ about it…he's gone all this time believing that he can save Light, and now not only has he been told that it's impossible, but both Near and you have _yelled_ at him over it. We've yanked him out of a hot tub and thrown him straight into an ice bath. Let's face it, we haven't exactly been gentle throughout this whole mess."

The blonde's eyes flickered over to L's cot. "I know," he admitted. "We haven't exactly been tactful. But seriously, how can you expect us to just sit by while he destroys himself? What he's doing is going to kill him, and you know it."

"Yes…" Matt murmured. "But perhaps there was a better way to go about this—a way that didn't end like _this._ He's practically comatose, Mells. He won't look at me, won't speak, won't eat…he's just… _gone."_

"He'll recover eventually," Mello assured in a low tone. He tugged his lover towards the door. "Don't think about it now, Matt. Just come to the investigation room. We're making preparations that you need to be a part of—remember, the sooner we end Kira, the sooner L can begin to stitch himself back together."

Matt case one last uneasy glance in L's direction. Although he could no doubt hear what was being said, he hadn't made a single move, nor showed any sign of recognizing what was going on around him. Then, "Okay," he whispered. "I'll go with you. But let me grab some pain meds first, I feel like my chest is on fire!"

Mello rolled his eyes somewhat playfully, but released Matt long enough for him to limp over to the medicine cabinet, swallow a few pills, and make his way back over to the door. He stumbled slightly, nearly falling to the ground—but the instant he lost his footing, Mello hooked an arm around his waist, pulling his lover flush against him and not letting go. "Easy, now," the blonde murmured. "I've got you."

Matt gazed up at his lover through pained eyes. "Thanks," he gasped as a jolt of discomfort stabbed at his chest. "I hope those pain meds kick in soon…"

After that, Mello returned to the investigation room with Matt, keeping a close watch over the younger male and fetching him everything he needed. Everyone in attendance agreed that they had never seen Mello be so compassionate.

And while such a tender display of care was taking place, Near, sitting stoically in his seat, could do nothing but wait. He was eager for the plan to be carried out, eager for L to return to his former self. He knew, somewhere deep within him, that what he had said to L was wrong. Even if he'd been correct logically, he should never have said such cruel things to the one he admired so much. He should never have snapped, should never have allowed his emotions to dictate how he acted. But still—something about the way L had looked, hair sticking up, eyes wild, body mangled and torn…it had been the final straw. Over the four months since the mess with Beyond had started, tiny things had been plucking away at the strings that held Near tomorrow. First it was the way that L had seemingly given himself over to his emotions, over to _Light._ Then it was the fact that L was so determined to keep Light by his side, even though it was obvious that Beyond was going to win. Then it was the way L had fallen into depression after Beyond _did_ win, and after that it was the way he so foolishly insisted that Kira would not be strong enough to overpower Light. Soon it was L's carelessness with his gun, then the ease with which Kira overpowered them all. Then it was L's breakdown and steady decline into insanity. And then, finally, there was that final, shatteringly painful event—L's insistence that he'd been visited by the King of the Shinigami, and the conviction with which he spoke of that damn bullet. All of the little things had plucked and plucked away at Near's strings over the past four months, and with every passing day those strings were drawn just a little bit tighter, and those invisible fingers plucked harder and harder, and then finally, after so much abuse, after so much pain…he'd snapped. Those fingers gave one last _harsh_ tug, and Near fell apart. But even while he was falling apart, he managed to keep it together—and the glue that held him together was anger. Anger, white-hot and blinding, surged through him like a flame. And then he was burning L with that flame, burning him beyond recognition. It was a regrettable outcome, to be sure.

Still, though…if Near hadn't said those terrible things to the detective, Mello would have. And, in fact, Mello _did_ say it, as Matt so kindly informed him just a few hours later. And if L hadn't been broken before, Mello's harsh words along with Watari's final, condemning statement regarding L's title as _L_ had more than done the trick. L had snapped, and it would take more than a few kind words of apology to pull him back.

It was hard, sometimes, for Near to remember that other people had strings just like he did. Especially with L, who had always seemed so far out of reach—it was hard, so _incredibly_ hard, to remember that deep, deep within the detective, there resided tiny cords that were pulled just as tight, if not tighter, than the ones within Near that had so recently broken. But it was too late now. It was too late for Near to remind himself that L was fragile, that he was too shaken to deal with harsh words and fierce actions. It was too late to stop himself from reaching into L's chest and giving those straining strings a painful tug, fraying them at the edges and paving the way for Mello to snap them entirely but a few minutes later.

It was too late to do anything, really, except wait.

And meanwhile, while Mello cared for Matt, and Near lost himself in the horrible act of waiting, L did nothing but think. He laid flat on his back in the infirmary, watched constantly by cameras, his mind running at top capacity. He hadn't slept. His eyes were beginning to look bloodshot, or so he was informed by Matt and Mello, who came to visit him that evening. They attempted to make him feel better, but L wouldn't respond, so they left soon enough. Once they were gone L had nothing to do but stare at the ceiling and count the tiles. He attempted to formulate a plan of escape, a plan to help Light and save him from death. But he was locked in the infirmary, and there was nothing he could do or say that would make Watari unlock the door. He settled for nursing his injured shoulder and trying not to aggravate his ribs. His head still hurt, but not so much that he couldn't think. Late at night he would pull out the bullet, which had been left in his possession, and roll it between his fingers. He longed to use it, to lodge it firmly into Kira's skull. But for now, there was no way to make that dream a reality.

His mind filled with images of Light. He was reminded, somewhat amusingly, of his time just a few days earlier, when he would sit in the investigation room and fantasize about Light. He'd done nothing but picture him, imagine his hair, his clothing, his movements, the way his flesh felt beneath his fingers. But now he was up to a whole different kind of imagining. Now, instead of imagining his hair, he imagined his expression, twisted in pain, blood spurting from his mouth as a bullet found his chest, his stomach, his shoulder, his…his head. Instead of imagining his pristine clothing, he imagined the way it would look spattered with red. Instead of imagining the way he moved, he imagined the manner in which he would fall, silhouetted by the moonlight, droplets of blood spraying outwards as he crashed to his final resting place. Instead of imagining the way his flesh felt beneath his fingertips, he imagined how it would never be beneath his fingertips again.

He wondered what would happen if Light died. _When_ Light died. Because as the days ticked on, L became depressingly sure that that was where this whole train wreck was going. The successors had told him without hesitation that he would be bound here on the night of the New Year. While Kira became a shinigami, while Light breathed his last, he would be here, bound by something so mundane as a pair of handcuffs. Funny…this whole mess had started with handcuffs, hadn't it? Had L not made that decision, that one, fateful choice to bind Light to him, then none of this would ever have happened. If he hadn't bound Light to him with the handcuffs, then he never would have been pushed so hard. If he hadn't been pushed so hard, then he would never have fallen ill…and if he hadn't fallen ill, then there was a strong possibility that their relationship wouldn't have developed the way it had.

But…was that really accurate? Surely their love was caused by more than a fever. _Surely_ it had been the result of a steadily growing affection—an affection that was locked firmly behind mental barriers, yes, but affection nonetheless. Perhaps, L mused, the handcuffs hadn't made the slightest difference. Perhaps the Shinigami King's little game involved their falling in love from the very beginning, and they would have been pushed into each other's arms without so much as a second thought. When it was put that way, it was almost depressing—it was almost as if their love was held together by manipulation. But no, that wasn't it—the Shinigami King could do anything he wanted, but it wouldn't change a thing. L loved Light, Light loved L, and that was all there was to it.

Well…perhaps there was a bit more to it.

Or a lot.

But either way, there was one thing that L knew for certain—this whole mess had started with a pair of handcuffs, and now it seemed that it was going to end with them as well.

How ironic.

L would have laughed at that, had he been able to vocalize anything without bursting into tears. He'd been silent for many, many hours now, and he refused to respond even to Matt, who stooped over him and murmured sweet lies about how everything would turn out okay, and how Light would be happier this way. That second part, at least, probably wasn't a lie—in all honesty, Light would most likely be happier dead, without Kira controlling him, than alive and trapped in his clutches. Oh well…it was too late to do anything now. The truth was, if something didn't change, and swiftly, then L would lose. Either he would remain in headquarters and Kira would die, or he would remain in headquarters, and Kira would kill the successors and the task force. That would lead to a miserable existence indeed, L thought. Of course, he wasn't too afraid of the future, at least where living after Light's death was concerned. If he lost the teen, then he had no doubt that he would lose the remaining fragments of his sanity, and follow close behind. He would be alone, yes, and without Light—but he wouldn't have the capacity to care. It was funny…he'd done _everything_ in his power to save the one he loved, and now it had come down to this. L was barely hanging onto the tiny scraps of his own mind that he still had control over, and as time passed, those scraps were only getting smaller, fewer in number. Someday soon he would snap—if he hadn't snapped already.

No, no, no…there wasn't time for him to think of such things—he had to find a way to escape!

…How could he escape?

Oh…right…there was no way.

L let out a pitiful whimper, mustering the strength to roll onto his front, burying his head in the pillows. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Well, that was the question, wasn't it? What _was_ he supposed to do?

Hah…

At the moment, it appeared that all he could do was wait.

†††

There were two days until New Year's Eve.

No one was in the investigation room. No one was seated in the cold chairs beside the darkened computers, no one was turning their ear towards the clock on the wall that slowly ticked down the hours, the minutes, the seconds until the New Year. The task force had been sent home. There was nothing they could do, after all, and they needed the rest if they intended to take on Kira and Beyond.

The successors had holed themselves up in their room, the lights off and the curtains drawn. The only light in the room emitted from the open laptops and Matt's handheld gaming system, which hung unused in one listless hand. None of them had spoken yet that day. They all remained silent, each lost in their own world.

Near spent his time imagining the world after Light was gone, imagining L's slow recovery. He imagined the day that L would work on cases and put criminals away without so much as a thought about Light Yagami.

Mello thought bitterly of Beyond's death, and silently dreaded facing L after Light was gone. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that snapping at L in the infirmary had been a mistake. He knew that he'd just pushed the detective further towards the edge, and that taking out his anger on the one he admired so greatly was wrong. But it wasn't as if he could just go back in time and stop this mess from ever happening—the damage was done, and now he had to live with the consequences. And, as unfortunate as it was, said consequences led right back to a practically comatose detective, curled on one side in the infirmary, refusing to speak. Mello regretted his actions, yes. He regretted most things these days, he realized dismally. He regretted letting L protect Light, even though it was painfully clear that it would only end in tears. He regretted allowing Kira to get his hands on Matt that first time in the investigation room. He regretted being unable to stop the murderer as he raised a gun to Matt's head and pulled the trigger—even if Kira had failed, and Matt was still alive, it didn't matter—he'd still allowed his lover's life to be threatened, and _that_ was more than enough reason to regret that day's events. He regretted allowing Matt to slip right out from under him, regretted not noticing as he chased after L like a lost puppy. And finally, ultimately, he regretted Light's death. It hadn't happened yet—or maybe it had—but either way, he regretted it. He didn't like Light, didn't care about him in the least. But Matt liked him, and L _loved_ him. That was enough for Mello, at least, to feel at the very least a _shred_ of guilt and remorse for letting the kid die. It was terribly tragic, and he had a dull, aching feeling in his chest that told him that he wasn't nearly as unaffected as he wished himself to be. Yes…he regretted Light's death. But not nearly enough to change his course of action. _This,_ he told himself, casting an uneasy glance at Matt, who was slouched over on the bed, _is the only way._ And when he still felt those prickles of unease, he thought it again. _This is the only way. The_ only _way._

Across the room, while Near brooded and Mello pondered, Matt's eyes watered beneath his goggles as he imagined the world after the next day. He found himself quite lucky that the goggles shielded his overly shiny eyes from the prying gazes of the other successors—he didn't want to have _another_ conversation with Mello over the necessity of Light's death. Of _Kira's_ death. He didn't think he'd be able to sit through another one of Mello's little fits over the subject. He wasn't an idiot, though. He wasn't the best at reading people, but he'd known Mello intimately for quite a large portion of his life, and he of all people was able to tell when the blonde was lying. Or rather, not quite lying—but hiding away emotional turmoil. He was saddened, Matt knew, over the fact that they were being forced to end the life of the one L loved so dearly. But despite that sadness that he tried so hard to hide, he would do nothing to change the plan. He was thinking much like the old version of L, it seemed, in the fact that he was putting emotions behind duty. How cold.

But…then again…Matt knew that he, as well, was putting duty before the deep, stabbing pain he felt in his chest. Of course, some of that pain could be attributed to the checkerboard Beyond had created on his chest. But the rest of it led straight back to Light. He didn't want to go through with this, he really didn't. He'd done everything, tried anything, to save the possessed teen. But now his attempts were in vain, and Light would be killed no matter what. And after it was over… L would be a mess. He'd been a mess since Light's transformation into Kira—no, actually, it had started well before that, well before the successors were called in to help. L's downfall had begun the very moment he laid eyes on Light Yagami, from the instant he dared to show his face to the task force. And after that, L had just kept spiraling and spiraling, wings ablaze as he fell from heaven. And soon that fall would be complete. Light would die, and L would hit the ground. After that, it would just be a matter of helping him recover enough to fly once again. Near thought that the recovery would be moderately swift, despite L's current condition, but…Matt wasn't so sure. He wasn't so optimistic as to think that L would make a speedy recovery after the death of his first—and quite possibly _only_ —love. It could take weeks, months, _years_ , or L may just never recover at all.

 _That_ was Matt's biggest fear. Oh, he feared many things as of late—he feared that something would go wrong when they confronted Kira, he feared that Mello would be killed, he feared that Beyond would get his hands on him again, he feared that Beyond would get his hands on _Mello_ again, he feared that Kira would kill them all and go on to become the god of the new world…the list went on. But all of those fears paled in comparison to one blaring, _terrifying_ fear—that the successors would succeed in killing Kira, and L would never recover. _That_ was his ultimate phobia. He feared that L would never be able to function the way he once had. He feared the responsibility of breaking L beyond the point of repair. Of course, he knew that Mello and Near also feared such a thing—but they were confident that with time, L would return to his former self. Near in particular hoped that eventually, L wouldn't spare so much as a thought for the being that had been known as Light Yagami. Once again, Matt wasn't so optimistic. He was well aware that even if they won, even if Kira was killed, there was a good chance that L would never be the same. Of course, there was also a possibility after the change in his normally static character, he would still be able to function as L once again. But with _that_ possibility also came the chance that the change in L would forever be negative, and he would retreat within himself permanently.

It was horrifying to think about, really. It was horrifying, and Matt was horrified by it.

A loud beep suddenly echoed around the silent room, and all in attendance jumped.

Oh…Matt's eyes fell upon the alarm clock in the corner. It was a rather irritating thing—it beeped once every hour, on the hour. It appeared that it was currently two in the afternoon…their time was slowly ticking away. But it made no difference. There was nothing left to do but wait, anyways. Nothing left. One hour, two hours, three…what difference did it make? Matt could count the hours, the minutes, the seconds…but it would all lead to the same place, eventually. He'd been told once, by someone whose face he'd long since forgotten, that all roads led to the same place. There was no escaping fate.

Well…

Matt stifled a laugh—he _really_ didn't need the other successors thinking he'd gone crazy—at that particular insight. So, there was no escaping fate, huh? No matter what he did, no matter how hard he fought, he'd just be dragged, kicking and screaming, to his final destination?

Well then—he supposed he'd just have to wait, wait more, and then wait even more, to see where his fate was leading him.

†††

There was one day until New Year's Eve.

There was one day until New Year's Eve, and everything was silent. The task force were back in their seats, but it was more of a formality than anything else—the successors had told them time and time again, that they didn't need to be there, but they wouldn't listen. One day off was enough, they said, and everyone seemed in agreement that they weren't able to relax during their time off anyways. Not with the end so near, not with the termination of the Kira case brushing their fingertips. It was almost within reach…almost…

But it wasn't, not just yet—and so the task force sat silently in their chairs, unmoving, unspeaking. They did nothing but stare blankly at darkened computer monitors, each lost in their own thoughts of the world they would soon be forced to return to. And while they sat, completely inert, the successors did little more than stare at the ground, each breathing shakily, unsteadily—Matt for fear of what would happen the following day, Mello for fear of putting his lover in danger yet again, and Near for the anticipation of putting an end to Kira and restoring L to normal. They were all locked in place, like actors standing in a paused frame of their movie, and none of them moved so much as their eyes.

Time ticked by.

One hour, two hours, three…they counted the days, the hours, the minutes…and soon they would be counting the seconds.

It was a waiting game, and none of them wanted to play.

†††

There were twenty-four hours until the New Year.

In twenty-four hours, the new moon would appear in the sky as a faint outline, and Kira's plan would be carried out. He would perform the ritual, he would become a shinigami—and Light would die.

Of course, the successors and the task force didn't believe that the ritual was possible. They were walking in blind, L knew, to the big picture, and he wouldn't be surprised at all if it led to their undoing. They were going in without the necessary information to put an end to Kira once and for all. How could they be so stupid? They were so convinced that they were going to win…but would they be able to kill Kira before he became a god? They didn't know about the ritual, and so once it started taking place, they would have no idea just what Kira was attempting to do—and if they stopped for even a moment, hesitated to figure out what was going on, then Kira would have already won. They would have lost their opportunity to shoot him, and they would be slaughtered like animals. Kira was taking no chances, after all—or maybe he was. After all, he'd given L the bullet back—but then again, it was likely that he'd only done it because he'd _known,_ as L had not, that the successors would think he was crazy, and use his insanity as a pretense for locking him away during the final confrontation. Kira had given L false hope, it seemed. He had everything planned out—and of course he did; since when was Kira the type to leave _anything_ up to blind luck? He knew, _had_ to have known, that the road would end here. He had to have been certain that L's heavy footsteps would lead him straight to his own imprisonment.

But maybe, just maybe, it hadn't had to be this way—maybe L could have convinced the successors if he just worded his plea differently, if he provided some sort of proof, if…

His thoughts trailed off into nothingness, trailed off because he knew that he was _wrong_. Nothing he could have done or said would have made the successors listen. And the worst part was, there _was_ evidence. There was ample evidence proving the existence of shinigami, of the Shinigami King, of the shinigami realm, of the power of burning the Death Note…but L hadn't been able to get his hands on said evidence. Rem, the only person— _shinigami_ —who had been willing to speak of the Shinigami King and the shinigami realm, was far, far away, helping Kira per the request of the King. And as was such, L had absolutely no way to prove that what he was saying was _not,_ in fact, the product of insanity. He had no way to prove that he was telling the truth—and as a result, the successors were going to lock him up. He wouldn't be with Light when he died. And _that_ was something definite—if L wasn't there with the bullet, then Light _would_ die. Of course, if L was there with the bullet, there was no guarantee that Light _wouldn't_ die—but still, considering the circumstances, L thought that he'd much rather take his chances. But, also considering the circumstances, it seemed that L wasn't going to have the opportunity to take said chances. The successors were dead set on their course of action. Why did they insist upon killing Light? His precious Light…

The door's handle jiggled. L shot upright in bed, tearing himself from the depressed hole he'd made in his mind. His eyes locked on the door. The handle jiggled again. There was the sound of voices outside, and L wondered momentarily if the successors were going to attempt to cheer him up again. Matt and Mello had been in twice, and Watari had visited him once—but he'd very adamantly refused to speak. He knew he was acting childishly, that he should tell the successors just what he thought of their little plan, but he couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes, let alone meet their murmurings with words of his own. He thought, perhaps, that now he would be ready to speak to someone, so long as the person coming to see him was someone worthy of his time.

The door handle turned to one side, but no one pushed it open. The handle stayed stuck like that, as if the person on the other side of the door was debating whether or not going inside was a good idea. L frowned—that wasn't like any of the successors, and it certainly wasn't like Watari. Who could be coming to see him that was so indecisive about their wish to see him…?

For just a moment longer, the handle stayed twisted to one side. Then the door opened, and in the doorway stood the last person L expected to see.

"Chief Yagami, what are you doing here?"

The older man had slight bags under his eyes, no doubt caused by the stress of knowing his only son was possessed by a murderer. His glasses were slightly askew, his hair frizzy and out of place. He stayed in the doorway, unmoving, and stared at L through uncertain eyes. He seemed to be debating with himself, as he'd been while standing outside the door, about the intelligence of speaking to the man who had condemned his son to death.

"Did the successors not tell you that remaining here today is useless?" L asked. "Why are you still here, rather than at home resting?"

The man furrowed his brow even further, hand clenching on the doorknob. Then, slowly, painfully, he took one step into the room and closed the door. He stood stiffly just inside the doorway, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "I needed to speak to you," came the gruff reply, after what appeared to be a lifetime of deliberation. "Before tomorrow."

"Ah, yes," L murmured, his expression crumpling painfully. "Doomsday. Armageddon. The big finale. The day your son will die."

Soichiro flinched, his head snapping to one side as if L's words had stricken him across the face. An awkward silence commenced, a silence that lasted so long that L began to wonder if Soichiro had really had a topic in mind when he came to speak with him.

"I'm sorry," L said, finally shattering the calm.

"Sorry?" Soichiro echoed.

"Yes. I am sorry for letting things go this far."

More silence.

"This is your fault."

"It is."

Silence.

"Chief Yagami," L said at last, "Did you come here just to reiterate the fact that this whole mess is my fault, or did you have another topic of conversation in mind?"

The man reached up and straightened his glasses. "I suppose I just wanted to see the man who condemned my son to death before I have to go off and carry out that condemnation," he said stiffly.

So he was mourning and needed comfort from someone who also cared for Light. L almost smiled at how poorly the man concealed his emotions. It must have been hard for him to come here—but as it stood, L was the only other person who had even a slight understanding of what he was going through. The man may not have liked it, but L _did_ love Light—and that meant that he was the best person to speak with for his purposes. "You don't have to worry about Light blaming you," L offered softly, understanding more than anyone else the need for comfort. "He wants to die. He's wanted to die ever since Kira possessed him again. He thinks it's the only way to atone for his sins."

"So I'll be doing him a favor," Soichiro stated coldly.

"Yes."

Soichiro looked down bitterly, and L sensed that he still wasn't satisfied. And honestly, who would be? No parent should ever be forced to kill their child.

"Do you want to know something strange?" Soichiro asked at last, his voice uncharacteristically dull. Without waiting for a response, he went on. "I thought I wanted to kill him."

L frowned deeply, opening his mouth to inquire further, but Soichiro cut him off.

"When I learned that my son was Kira—or rather, that he was harboring him within his mind, I thought that I wanted to kill him. I never said anything to that effect, not at first, because I knew that what I was feeling was wrong. I knew that I shouldn't _ever_ wish to kill my own flesh and blood, no matter what. And yet, I wanted him to suffer for what he'd done. I wanted him to pay for the evils he'd committed. I gladly agreed with Near's plan to kill him."

Ah, yes… _that_ L was well aware of. He knew that the task force had agreed to go after Kira without mercy. He couldn't say he was surprised—after all Kira had done, putting an end to him seemed to be the best course of action. He supposed that his own pitiful condition via the teen's actions was just the final straw.

"And yet, after I agreed, I didn't feel content. It was as if the moment I gave in to Near's plan, I suddenly realized that I was wrong—I _don't_ want to kill my son."

For a moment, L was almost convinced that Soichiro was going to help him. But then he spoke again, and all of L's hopes immediately vanished.

"But it doesn't matter now, I suppose—I've taken my side, and I'm going to see it through to the end. I'm just a bit taken aback, you understand. It's logical, I know, for a father to protect his son. But in this case, after everything he's done…well…" he smiled, but there was no humor or happiness behind the gesture. "…Perhaps I've lost a bit of my sense of justice."

There was a cold pit settling in L's stomach. "So what if you have? In what world does _justice_ lead to the destruction of an innocent teenager?"

"My son is not innocent."

"But he is. You just can't see it."

More silence. L knew that no matter what he said, Soichiro would not understand just how separate Light and Kira were. He would have had to see it for himself to truly understand—and that was never going to happen.

Soichiro shifted awkwardly, edging minutely towards the door. He clearly felt inclined to leave, seeming to have come to the conclusion that visiting L was a bad idea.

"Wait," L instructed in a dull tone, not wanting him to leave. There was one last elephant in the room—and it seemed to be putting its full weight on L's chest.

Soichiro stopped his steady retreat, but made no gesture or sound to indicate that he wished to be there.

"Chief Yagami…" L murmured, searching his thoughts deeply. He didn't want to discuss this, didn't want to bring it up—but if Light was going to die that evening, then he didn't want things to end like _this_ between his lover's father and himself. He had to do something. He had to _say_ something. "I thought about what you said," L muttered at last, refusing to meet Soichiro's gaze. "About me not really loving Light, but being selfish and treating him like a possession."

Light's father was watching him with cautious eyes, and L became acutely aware that if he angered this man, he wouldn't hesitate to bring harm to him. The fact that he was the man Light had fallen for wasn't going to protect him. "And?" Soichiro demanded. "Did you reach a conclusion?"

Apologizing was _not_ L's forte. Neither was admitting he was wrong, or letting others know that he felt anything other than disinterest—although, admittedly, that last one had become less and less true over the past couple of months. But still, he had to say this. Soichiro's father needed to hear it, and L needed to say it. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself. "You're right," he said softly. A flicker of surprise crossed Soichiro's face at the admission. "I haven't been very good to Light. I didn't do what was best for him. I could have ended this, ended his pain, but my selfishness allowed it to continue, and now here we are. I must thank you for bringing my own selfishness to my attention, Chief Yagami." And yet, the funny thing was, if he could do it all over again, L knew that he would be just as selfish the second time around. He wouldn't kill Light before Kira could take over, no matter what.

Soichiro looked slightly concerned, as if he feared the direction the conversation was taking.

"I really do love him," L went on. There was an uncomfortable heat behind his eyes. "I love him dearly, and I want to be with him when he dies. The fact that he'll die alone, scared, cowering in the back of his own mind… it terrifies me. I wish that I could be with him. I wish that I could hold his hand, comfort him before he slips away from me."

Soichiro's expression twisted sourly, and the creases in his forehead grew even more pronounced as he drew his brows closer together. "If you hadn't deluded yourself into thinking you possess a magical bullet, the maybe you'd get your wish," he growled. "But once again, it's your fault that you're not going to be there for my son!"

L was taken aback. Soichiro was mad about _that?_ He was mad about L not being there at the time of Light's death? "Hold on," L said, dumbfounded. "Is that seriously what you're mad about? You _want_ me to be there for him? I thought you disapproved of us!"

The man turned his head away. "I am upset," he growled in a low tone, "that once again your actions have barred you from helping my son."

He'd evaded the question. "I thought that you disapproved of my relationship with your son," he repeated. He'd been functioning under the assumption, for all these weeks, that Soichiro hated him. Everything he'd said, everything he'd done, had all led him to believe that according to Soichiro, he was an unwelcome part of Light's life.

The man sighed heavily. "If you'd been paying attention, then you'd know that from the very beginning that I yelled at you due to your selfishness and inability to do what was best for my son," he responded. "Not once did I say that it was _you_ I disapproved of—just your actions, and the way you've treated Light."

L's mouth was hanging open unintelligently, but he couldn't quite bring himself to close it. Light's father…approved of him? Or at least, he _could_ have approved of him, had the circumstances been different? Was it possible?

Seemingly unaware of L's surprise, Soichiro went on. "I can't say that I'm pleased about the fact that Light has attached himself to such an unstable person as yourself _._ But if he has found happiness in you, I will try not to voice my displeasure in such a way that discourages him. I have been cruel to you not because of your gender, but because of the way you treated Light. Had you considered what was best for him rather than what was best for yourself, I would have been able to accept, at least on some level, what existed between you and my son."

L had convinced himself long ago that he shouldn't care about Soichiro's opinion about this particular matter, but hearing his approval (or rather, approval of the general _idea_ of something existing between L and Light) made his chest swell with happiness. In a different world, it made him content to know that their relationship would have remained moderately unchallenged by Light's family. "Thank you," he managed softly. "I know that I haven't been good to Light. If I could change how I treated him, I would. I swear it." Yes, he would change how he'd treated him—he would have taken him to the hospital earlier, for example—but he knew that he never could have killed him, like Soichiro so desired.

"I know you would," came the weary response. Soichiro approached L's bed and reached a hand out to ruffle his hair in an almost fatherly gesture. The man removed his hand and headed for the door a moment later, his entire form tense, as if he'd just done something very bad. "Thank you for speaking with me," he said stiffly. "I should leave now. I need to spend time with my family. This is the last night that my wife and I will have son, you understand. I don't want to waste it."

There was the sound of footsteps as Soichiro walked away. Then the door closed behind him, and L was left back where he started, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for the evening to come.

†††

There were two and a half hours until midnight on New Year's Eve.

Things were eerily still as the task force dressed themselves in uniforms akin to riot gear. They were in the same room in which L had retrieved his safety equipment, each of them gearing up to take down Kira. The mood was somber, the air heavy with the reality of the situation. By the end of today, should fate be in their favor, Light Yagami would be dead. Kira would be dead. And Beyond wouldn't be far behind.

Matt turned the index card Kira had left him over and over in his hands. He was leaning against the far wall, uniform already on. He had forsaken the helmet in favor of his goggles. _New Year's Eve, 11:00, the burial site of the Death Note._ That was the message Kira had left them. The place where Kira had buried the Death Note… Light had told them about the location. It was in the small forest resting an hour's drive from the headquarters. In the dead center of that forest, under the endlessly reaching oaks, there rested a patch of earth that had been disturbed. That was where Kira planned to carry out his plan.

His plan… the successors had yet to puzzle out what that plan was. L had told them that Kira planned to become a shinigami and thus kill Light—but that was impossible, so what was he planning? Presumably Kira and Beyond wished to wipe out the last of the people that opposed them. After all, the police had long since withdrawn their support from the task force. Once the task force and the successors were gone, nothing could in Kira's way. He would become the god of the new world—figuratively, of course.

 _I can't believe this is the end._

No one spoke aloud, but the same sentiment was shared by all in attendance. It had been months. Almost four months since this all began, and now it was finally coming to an end. One way or another, come tomorrow it would all be over.

The end.

The last members of the task force finished dressing and headed for the door. The last one out was Matt, pulled forward by an impatient Mello. It was currently 9:30, and they needed to leave. The drive to the forest would take one hour, and they would want some time to spare.

"I wish we didn't have to do this," Matt whispered as he walked beside Mello. The blonde shot him a sympathetic look.

"I know."

That was it. No comforting words were exchanged. Nothing more than cold reality. All their words had been used, all their emotions expended. There was nothing left.

The team left Watari in the monitoring room to watch L. If none of them returned and Kira won, Watari was to take L and flee Japan. If L attempted to break out of his room or cause trouble, the inventor would stop him. There was no way L was going to be allowed to follow them to the forest.

Near ushered the task force down to the elevator, then through the lobby and out the front door. It was dark out, the faint outline of the moon casting a dim glow over the earth. The streets were anything but empty. They were filled with laughing people walking towards the spot where the fireworks show would be held, where the countdown to the New Year would begin. The world was buzzing with life, but the air was filled with death. Soichiro sat behind the wheel of a van and the task force piled in. Near leaned his head against the window, the cold glass fogging up with every breath he took. It was cold out. Snow drifted from above, covering the world in a gentle white powder. Beautiful. Deadly.

Matt leaned against Mello, his whole body shaking despite the rather warm protective gear. The heat was on full blast, and even that couldn't keep out the chill. Matsuda sat rather uncomfortably in the row of seats behind the successors, shifting restlessly and trying to do anything but gaze at the other people in the van. Mogi and Aizawa sat in the next row up on opposite sides of the van, both gazing out their respective windows at the celebration taking place in the streets. Soft pops were heard through the glass as someone far away lit off some firecrackers. Cheers followed close behind, the excited cheers of children as small fireworks crackled in the streets around them.

Soichiro sat alone in the front seat, eyes locked on the road determinedly. If he dared to look back then he would be hit with the irresistible desire to turn around and go back to the headquarters. He wanted to run away from his son. But, he reminded himself, a large part of the blame for this was placed on him for teaching his son such a twisted view of justice. His teachings had sired Kira. This was the only way to set things right. So he kept his gaze fixed ahead of him and suffered through the suffocating silence. For his son, he would do this.

His mind drifted back to his conversation with L. He remembered the thing—or rather, _two_ things he had slipped under the detective's pillow while he ruffled his hair. He wondered if the detective had figured out just what he'd given him… Soichiro shook his head sharply to clear the memory. His fingers clutched the steering wheel tighter. He would not question his decision. He knew that he might have made a huge mistake that would lead to his death, to _L's_ death. But he couldn't quite bring himself to regret it. He supposed that it didn't matter now, though.

For by the end of the night, this whole disaster would be over.

†††

Little more than an hour later, the task force stood in a forest. The forest was barely light enough to see with the moon absent from the sky, the endlessly tall oak trees reaching up into the night sky until their tops became nothing but blurry leaves and branches sewn together to form a canopy above their heads.

The task force and the successors moved through the forest on their toes, each member holding their gun aloft and shuffling along carefully just in case Kira and Beyond had a trap waiting for them. As they neared the spot where the Death Note had been buried, each felt more and more tense at the lack of action. Tension clouded the air.

And then it was there.

A clearing in the forest, slightly larger than the size of two living rooms sewn together, with one great oak tree dead in the center. Beneath the tree was a small spot of earth in which the grass had been upturned. Fresh earth covered the area. The task force slowly moved into the clearing, their backs facing each other in a rough, scattered circle.

"What time is it?" Matt asked softly, his gun leveled at the darkness beyond the clearing.

Soichiro raised one wrist to eye level, checking his watch. "It's 10:56," he said. "Four minutes shy of the designated time."

"Surely he's already here," Near murmured. He raised his voice. "Kira, Beyond! Show yourselves!"

Silence. Minutes passed.

"Time?" Near requested.

"10:59," Soichiro reported tensely.

Another minute passed.

And then it was 11:00 exactly. And just on cue, a sudden noise filled the air. But it wasn't the sound of bushes rustling or footsteps growing nearer. It was the sound of radio static, echoing eerily around the empty clearing. Immediately the task force whipped around to face the oak. The sound emanated from the tall grass growing around the base of the tree. A dull glow led Near to lean and grab the object making the white noise.

"…It's a transmitter," he said at last. Near held it up for the task force to see. "I wonder why a transmitter is sitting here where the Death Note was buried…" The expression on his face gave away the fact that he was not at all curious. He knew.

Suddenly the transmitter came to life. A small green light blipped constantly, and the sound of static faded to a dull roar.

"Near." A voice broke through the white noise. "Can you hear me?"

"Kira, you coward!" snarled Mello. "Using a transmitter to speak to us instead of showing us your face? Are you that afraid of death?"

Kira chuckled. "Wanting to preserve my life isn't cowardice," he purred smoothly. "I know that you're planning to shoot me on sight. I would be foolish to show up in front of you to make my little speech."

"What's your plan?" Near demanded. "Why did you call us here if you're not even going to show up?" Damn it, this was bad…Near had come here under the assumption that Kira's pride wouldn't allow him to be absent from the scene of his greatest crime. He'd assumed that he'd be waiting in the clearing, ready to make some grand speech, and all they'd have to do was shoot him. But now…

"Oh, I'll be there," Kira promised. _"After_ you've been taken care of."

"Taken care of?" Matsuda echoed nervously. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"

There was a moment of silence. Then Kira snapped, "Where is L?"

He was avoiding the question.

"Like we'd tell _you,"_ Mello snarled.

"So he's not here," Kira concluded. He almost sounded disappointed. "You want to protect him, I assume. After all, I left him quite _injured_ after our last encounter."

"Shut it, bastard!" Mello growled. "Answer the question!"

"Hmm…" Kira trailed. "I'd much rather show you. Rem, would you do the honors?"

There was an extended moment of silence. Then the shadows at the edge of the clearing rippled, and suddenly a massive creature was standing before them.

Snow-white skin. Purple hair. Dull pink lips. One, yellow eye, staring from behind a bandage. Rem.

Near had never seen the creature before, but Light's description of her was flawless. This was the shinigami that was obsessed with Misa Amane.

Soichiro, Matsuda, and Mogi all gasped. Though L had made them touch the Death Note, they had never seen Rem in person. "M-monster!" Soichiro stuttered.

"Not a monster," Kira corrected. "A _shinigami."_

Rem came closer in slow motion, and Near realized too late what her intentions were. "Shoot it!" he ordered in vain.

Bullets peppered her white skin, but none sank beneath. The forest floor shone with the bits of steel that had failed to kill their target. What remained of the moonlight made them glitter and dance, spotting the clearing with tiny gemstones. Deadly beauty.

"You see," Kira explained, "normally shinigami can't harm humans with their bare hands. The breaking of that rule is severe enough to earn them the judgment of the Shinigami King himself. But Rem will die soon enough, so taking you with her makes little difference."

Near blanched. Shinigami king? Was Kira just as delusional as L? Or…

Near had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sinking feeling that could be traced back to a raven-haired detective held captive in the infirmary with a magic bullet.

Near's thoughts were torn away from L as the shinigami drifted closer, a displeased look on her face. Clearly she didn't want to do this; her single yellow eye glittered with reluctance—but then, why was she still advancing? What force was keeping her moving? She hated Kira, Near knew, so why was she doing this?

Bullets continued to spew from the muzzles of the guns wielded by the task force, but it was more than useless in the face of a supernatural being.

The shinigami struck.

One of its massive arms swung down and knocked Mogi off his feet; the other swooped around and grabbed him by the ankle, slamming him against the great oak in the center of the clearing. There was a nasty crack as his head struck the tree. Then a stain of red, dripping down the grooves in the trunk. Then Mogi slid to the ground, eyes shut. The task force stood in stunned silence, too horrified to move. How could they fight something that couldn't be killed with their weapons?

The shinigami whirled around and delivered a harsh blow to the side of Matsuda's head before he had a chance to move. He hit the ground in seconds.

Soichiro and the successors had snapped out of it now. When the creature took a swing at Soichiro he threw himself to the side, landing harshly one his shoulder. He winced, clearly displeased that he was having to move in this way. He was an older man, after all, and he was no doubt feeling this more than anyone else. Rem attempted a jerky kick, clearly unfamiliar with moving herself in an aggressive manor. Soichiro rolled out of the way with a groan, coming to a halt beside the oak tree. For just a single moment it appeared that he was safe—but then the shinigami took a swipe at him, and his eyes glued themselves shut.

"Hey!" Mello yelled, drawing Rem's attention away from the downed chief. The shinigami whipped around, her one yellow eye locking on the obnoxious blonde successor. Mello's eyes darted past the shinigami to Matt, who had run to stand beside Soichiro the instant the shinigami turned her back. "Now!" Mello yelled.

Matt took a flying leap at Rem, barely feeling the burn of his injuries as he managed to catch one hand around her neck and pull himself up. He pressed his gun to the side of her head and pulled the trigger. When that spot didn't work he moved to another, then another, searching for a weak point.

Rem frowned. All it took was one shake of her shoulders and Matt was thrown to the ground. His body was already weak from his healing injuries, and the impact was all it took to jar his whole body painfully. He struggled to get to his feet, but the aches and pains resonating throughout his form stopped him. For a heartbeat he just laid there, groaning with every pulse of pain. Then Rem knocked him back into the oak tree with one nudge of her massive foot, and it was over. His eyes slipped closed as he fell into unconsciousness.

"Matt!" Mello choked, praying his lover was still alive. His eyes smoldered with fury as he stared down the shinigami. "You'll pay for that, you bitch!"

Rem didn't appear to hear him. She was too focused on her mission to subdue all the members of the task force. There were two left. Mello and Near.

Then Rem swiped one of her hands downward, and a harsh blow to the back of the head was all it took for two to be reduced to one.

Near backed himself against the oak tree, the helmet that came with the riot gear bumping uncomfortably against the hard wood. Never had he felt so foolish. Never had he miscalculated so severely. How had he made such a severe mistake? All this, his whole plan, had been based on Kira's unmistakable pride. It wasn't like him to not attend the scene of his greatest victory, his perfect crime. And to send Rem instead… Near whirled to one side to avoid Rem's attempt at knocking him out. Kira had said that Rem was going to die soon anyways, and that was why she could afford to hurt humans. What had he meant by that? How did one kill a shinigami? Near remembered Light mentioning something about it, but now it was all a blur.

Another blow scored the tree with several deep marks.

Near found himself missing L. He wished that he were there, even if he _was_ completely delusional.

It occurred to Near that he might not have been so delusional. He had passed off L's ramblings as the words of someone stricken with heartache. But the fact that both Kira and L had mentioned this "Shinigami King" couldn't be ignored. Of course, Near still doubted the existence of magic bullets, but now it didn't seem so inconceivable that something of the sort could exist…

Near hoped that he hadn't locked his one hope for victory in the infirmary back at headquarters.

Rem raised a hand.

Near threw himself to one side.

Then he felt a piercing pain in his head, and his legs suddenly stopped functioning. His world was fading around him, fading at an alarming rate, but not fast enough to stop him from seeing a red-haired, red-eyed teen emerging from the shadows.

"Kira!" Near managed, but it was so weak that he doubted the teen could hear him.

Kira laughed, and that was it—Near's eyes slipped closed, and he gave himself over to unconsciousness.

†††

L stared up at the ceiling bitterly. His stomach was twisting with a horrible nervousness. It wasn't in his nature to do this, to lie in bed uselessly and wait for others to do his work for him. His fingers danced over his amulet. If only he had a gun, a way out of here, and transportation to the forest—the place where Kira had buried the Death Note before he went into confinement.

He'd lost count of how many times he'd put a number to every tile on the ceiling of the infirmary. It was all he could do to keep his mind off Light's death, and it was barely working. Every few tiles his mind would flit back to the fair-skinned teen he loved so much. His mind painted him in red, covered his face in spatters of warm blood, sprayed his life out over the forest floor.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

The worst part of it all was that he had the cure. He had the bullet that could save Light's life and end Kira's, and he was stuck counting tiles. Near thought he was crazy. Watari thought he was crazy.

 _At least Soichiro is moderately okay with me,_ he thought, rolling onto his stomach, his cheek pressed into the pillow. His eyes ached from remaining open so long. He hadn't realized he'd stopped blinking.

Soichiro… L still felt off about the conversation he'd had with him. He felt like he was missing something, something major. He sighed heavily. Maybe his mind was just over-analyzing things again. It wouldn't be the first time as of late. He pushed both arms beneath his pillows in a vain attempt to get comfortable.

He froze.

His fingers were brushing something smooth and cold. Metal. His fingers brushed over the length of the object. It came to what felt like a handle on one end, and extended for maybe six inches in the opposite direction. L's fingers closed solidly around the handle, and he knew immediately what he was holding.

He was holding a gun.

His mind raced. Who had left this? How hadn't he noticed?

His fingers traced something else. A piece of paper, folded up and resting beneath the gun. L left the gun where it lay and brought the paper up to his face, unfolding it carefully. It was a normal sheet of binder paper with a short message scrawled in familiar handwriting.

 _This is your second chance, L. You're not going to get a third. Save my son._

L stared at the writing in disbelief. So this was what Soichiro's visit had been about. He marveled at the fact that Soichiro had managed to slip the gun and message under the pillow without him noticing. He supposed that it had happened when Soichiro reached out to ruffle his hair. L had been practically delirious at the time, completely stunned that Soichiro was accepting him and completely heartbroken at the thought of losing Light. And of course, he was sleeping with two pillows, which meant that he hadn't felt the gun until he slipped his hands under the second one.

He wondered what would have happened had he not tried to get comfortable by reaching beneath the pillows. Light might have died because L was unobservant.

L forced himself to focus. Soichiro hadn't left a key to the door, probably because he thought L could think his way out of any situation. And of course, if L didn't have the brainpower to find his way out, then he really wouldn't be in any condition to fight Kira.

L thought fast. He was on the clock now—if Kira turned into a shinigami before L got to the forest, then the bullet wouldn't be good for anything. Light would die, and nothing would be able to pull him back. The detective rolled over and told the empty room, "I'm feeling a rather sharp pain in my chest. I would like my pain medication now, if you please."

A pause. Then, "I will be there at once, L." The speakers in the walls of the infirmary crackled with momentary static. L turned his face away from the cameras and smiled triumphantly. Watari, fearing that he would attempt suicide, had locked up the cabinets and put covers over the shelves that were unmovable without the correct code. Every time L requested medicine, Watari had to leave the surveillance room and come down to unlock the required pills. L threw himself face-down into the pillows and wrapped his fingers around the muzzle of the gun. He assessed the weight of it with curious fingers, swiftly formulating a plan to get out of the damned _death trap_ the infirmary had become.

The door opened several minutes later, and the elderly inventor stood calmly in the doorway. "You requested pain medication, L?"

"Yes," the detective reiterated. "My ribs are hurting me."

Watari nodded shortly and moved to the cabinet, withdrawing a key from his pocket and inserting it into the lock. He opened the door and began rifling through the various pill bottles.

While he was busy, L silently pushed himself to his feet. His head spun for a heartbeat as he put his full weight on his legs for the first time in days. He clutched the gun in one hand and approached his guardian on light toes. He barely gave himself time to regret what he was about to do before he raised the gun, and with one, swift motion, struck Watari across the back of the head.

The inventor barely made a noise before he hit the ground.

L winced, approaching the inventor and prodding him gently with one foot. He didn't stir. "I'm sorry," he offered Watari's unconscious form. Of course, it was like talking to a corpse. He received no answer. So L simply pulled Watari onto one of the cots, turned, and exited the room.

He took the elevator down to the lowest floor and entered the parking garage. He'd originally protested it's construction, saying that he would never have a use for cars or this oversized place to park them. But now he was thankful. L yanked open the door of the sleek black sports car sitting nearest the elevator and stuck one leg inside. Then he paused, and on second thought abandoned that one in favor of the police car sitting next to it. He slipped into the drivers seat and latched the seatbelt into place. He grabbed the keys from the glove compartment and turned it on. A flick of a switch activated the sirens, and L grinned.

If he wanted to make it to Light in time, he would have to move fast. And this police car was going to help him do just that.

 **I edited this entire chapter with my five-month-old kitten, Loki, curled up on my chest. It was adorable, but I don't recommend it for work purposes. But that's beside the point; there are only a few chapters left! I'm so excited to post them, and I hope you're just as excited to read them! Finally, _finally,_ this story is drawing to a close. I know it might not feel like it's been that long, but keep in mind that I've worked on this story on and off for over a year, so to finish it is a pretty big deal. As silly as it may be, it makes me feel like I've accomplished something.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and be sure to leave a review on the way out!**


	25. Forest of Secrets

**Welcome to chapter twenty-five, AKA the next part of the forest confrontation! I like this chapter. I _really_ like this chapter. Even though it has some _ridiculously_ cheesy moments (you'll know what I mean when they happen) I'm still a big fan of how this whole part of the story played out. But anyways, thanks a bunch if you left a review on the last chapter! I'm glad that everyone is excited to see what happens next! **

**And to one of my lovely guests: oh, there'll be an epilogue no matter who wins (and per your inquiry, my adorable little kitten is a grey tabby. As a matter of fact, once again, she was curled up on my chest while I edited this!)**

 **Chapter 25: Forest of Secrets**

Kira stood at the foot of the great oak, staring up past the branches into the night sky. The moon was barely visible in the sky, a thin outline that could only be located if one were looking for it. It was just enough light to seep into the clearing, illuminating it minutely, but still enough to see. The Shinigami King had called the night of the new moon the time in which the veil between the shinigami realm and the human world was the most weakened. As long as Kira carried out his ritual on a new moon, the Shinigami King should have no problem appearing to grant his approval and bestow upon him the powers of a god of death.

There was the soft sound of rope sliding against flesh, then Beyond was by his side like a shadow. He stood so close that the heat of his body seeped from his form to Kira's, his breath ghosting across the soon-to-be god's neck.

"It is done," the monster murmured, inky black hair hanging around his scarlet eyes, the contrast making them shine in the dull light.

Kira turned his head to look around the clearing. Beyond had securely tied the successors and the task force to the trunks of the trees, positioning them so they were facing the great oak in a rough imitation of a semicircle. None had regained consciousness yet. Kira snorted disdainfully. How _pathetic_. "Thank you, Beyond," he murmured in response.

"So what now?" Beyond asked, weaving his arms around Kira's chest and drawing him close in a cruel mockery of affection. "You're going to wait for them to wake up?"

The scarlet-haired demon smirked, regarding Beyond with something akin to amusement. "Something like that, yes. You know how imposing my dramatic flare is; I don't plan on carrying out my plan until I have an audience."

Beyond offered him a sinister grin, but Kira's eyes were fixated on Rem, who had turned away abruptly at his words. She didn't attempt to hide her look of disgust. Hmm… Kira pondered for the millionth time if Rem would dare to betray him. Surely she wouldn't, not with Misa's life on the line… After all, if Kira was taken down, then Misa would be taken in immediately for being Kira, no matter what L said (or so Kira had convinced Rem). Naturally Rem would help Kira, if only to protect Misa. And even if Kira's threats weren't enough, it was already too late for Rem to go against the plan—the Shinigami King had explicitly ordered her to obey Kira's every word, fulfill his every desire. It seemed perfect. But there was always an outlier, something that Kira couldn't possibly have thought of. Naomi Misora had been such an outlier. And now Kira was afraid that L Lawliet would be another variable that he was incapable of plugging into any equation. The simple fact was, he hadn't devised any kind of solution as to what he would do if L wasn't here for Kira's ascendance to godhood. He had never even considered the possibility that L would be stuck at headquarters while his successors fought his battle for him. He had, the same as Near, based his plan on the sheer power of the assumption that L would be too prideful to skip out on the final battle. He had assumed, and he had been _wrong._

Of course, had Near not locked L up, then he would have been right—L's pride wouldn't have allowed him to stay away. But the fact was, Near _had_ locked L away, and now Kira was afraid. He was afraid that L would do something crazy, something unpredictable that would throw a wrench in his plan. He could feel it, the tiny needle of fear nibbling delicately at his heart. But he choked it down, convincing himself that it was just some of Light's weakness leaking through. After this night, Kira knew that he would never have to deal with that sniveling excuse for a genius ever again. Light would be dead, completely eradicated from his mind. Game over. All hail Kira.

Kira felt a sudden pinch of pain behind his eyes, and he raised a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. "Now, now, Light," he murmured softly. "None of that." He felt a weak flutter of resistance in response, but the next heartbeat it was gone.

"They're waking up," Beyond murmured in a muffled tone, stirring Kira from his trance.

"So it seems," he replied. He realized with a start that Beyond's lips were sealed to his neck, and he wondered dimly why he hadn't realized. He rolled his shoulders, allowing the tenseness to drain from his body and shaking Beyond off in the process.

The murderer drew back with a grumble, muttering, "Touchy, touchy."

Kira shook his head, displacing his carefully brushed hair, and allowed Beyond's comment to roll off him. Next, he allowed just the right amount of smug contentment and scorn to flood into his scarlet eyes. He placed a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Beyond shook his head, an amused expression overtaking him. "Is it showtime, then?" he asked.

Kira didn't dignify that little statement with a response. Instead, he turned, and saw Near's bleary eyes locked on him. He could hear Matt and Mello's slight stirrings as they woke, and Soichiro, Mogi, and Matsuda were also coming around, one after another. It seemed that Beyond's assessment had been correct—all the successors and the members of the task force were awakening. Well, then…it appeared that it was time. Running a hand through his hair, ruffling it further, Kira prepared himself for the end. And then, satisfied with his continued composure, he turned to face his prisoners, twisting his features into a nasty grin.

"Welcome back," he purred. "Or should I say, welcome to _the end._ "

†††

L sped through the streets at break-neck speed, breaking every traffic and safety law known to man in his haste to reach Light. He jammed his foot against the gas pedal until it hit the floor, and he didn't let up on it once all the way from the headquarters to the forest. The fireworks and flashing lights of a celebrating city blurred outside his windows as he drove. L wondered briefly how they did it… how the world kept spinning, the people kept celebrating, the time kept ticking down to midnight. How could people continue to live when Light was in danger?

A car honked furiously as L skirted around it, clipping one of its side mirrors as he went. He supposed it would be proper protocol to stop and exchange insurance information over the light scrape, but that was the absolute last thing on L's mind.

He knew he was getting close when the cars thinned out and the stoplights turned to stop signs that soon became few and far between. He was the only one venturing out to the forest on this particular evening. All other vehicles had turned in other directions or turned back altogether at the sight of the reckless police car, leaving L alone on the dark road to the forest.

And then there were trees. He saw them, large and intimidating, staining the skyline with their swaying forms. L blasted the car the last several hundred feet to the edge of the forest and skidded the vehicle to a halt, turning it off and throwing the door open violently. He emerged from the police car in a flurry of movement and left the door carelessly open. As he began running into the darkened forest he drew his gun and loaded it with the all-powerful bullet. It wasn't easy, of course. After just a few steps his head started to pound, an obvious repercussion of running full-bore into a forest so soon after sustaining a severe concussion. His lungs ached, his ribs burned, and every inch of his body felt uncomfortably warm and sensitive to the slightest movement. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he had to get to Light, no matter how much his body complained, no matter how much he just wanted to lie down and beg for another dose of morphine. He had to get to his lover. He had to save him.

One way or another, alive or dead, L swore that he would leave this forest with Light.

No matter what.

†††

The eyes of the task force and the successors were locked on Kira as he stood before them, ethereal in his moonlit beauty, his luminescence further enhanced by the contrast of the shadow standing beside him.

Kira nearly laughed as he saw the frightened gazes his victims were giving him. They'd been so unprepared…it was quite pathetic. He'd thought, with all the time he'd given them to prepare themselves for the end, that they would have found a way to win. But no, it seemed that they were just as hopeless as they'd been all those weeks ago, when he took Light from them and killed Aizawa. Had they spent two months doing nothing but sitting around? Did they think that they would just show up in the clearing, guns waving clumsily about, and shoot him in the head? Did they think that Kira would be so _foolish_ as to make an appearance before the ones that wanted so badly to kill him? He knew their plan, he'd _always_ known their plan—and he also knew that if he did nothing but wait for them in the clearing, then he'd be dead long before midnight. This way was better. He'd sent Rem ahead of him and lurked in the shadows with Beyond—something the older man was admittedly better at than him. Normally, of course, Rem wouldn't dare to lay a hand on a human, let alone for _Kira_ of all people, but the Shinigami King had been quite convincing in that regard. All it took was a short conversation, a few snapped words, and it was over. The shinigami's strings were handed over to Kira, and he was swift to use them as a puppeteer would a marionette.

A soft sound drew Kira's attention back to the successors and the task force. The noise had come from Near, who was testing the ropes curled around his chest. His dark eyes were glittering, and Kira knew instinctively that he was about to open that big mouth of his and start prattling on. It would be some foolish question, perhaps, or maybe some ridiculous statement of victory, despite the fact that he had _not_ been victorious—he was tied to a tree, after all, and help was nowhere to be found. No matter how you looked at it, Kira had won.

And then, just as Kira had predicted, Near spoke, tearing him from his thoughts.

"So, Kira," Near rasped. "What's your plan? To become a shinigami?"

Kira's head tilted to one side, a frightening grin stretching ear to ear. Oh, he sounded so _mocking…_ L's little successor didn't believe that he could become a shinigami. He'd be thrilled to prove him wrong. "Why, yes," he purred. "But then again, you didn't believe L, so why should you believe me?"

Near immediately shifted his gaze to the ground.

Hmm… so the child was regretful. Kira tucked that knowledge away thoughtfully. "I have a masterful plan," he said after a moment's pause. "A plan that will turn me into a shinigami, as you have already been told. A plan that started with your capture."

At these words Mello fought viciously against his bindings. "Monster!" he snarled, and Kira began to wonder if his entire vocabulary consisted of one or two word insults.

While Mello thrashed, Near's hands curled at his sides, the ropes stretching as he moved. No doubt he was longing to reach up and twirl a lock of his hair between his fingers, as he was so fond of doing whenever he was deep in thought. He spoke, and it was obvious that he was struggling to retain his cool. "Are you going to explain your genius plan to us, or do we have to guess?"

Kira threw a glance back at Rem. The shinigami was watching him with a look of absolute disgust, her brow crinkled and her singular yellow eye narrowed in anger. Kira looked away swiftly to hide his smirk from her. She had no idea what he had planned. She had _no idea_ that he had tricked her. "If I told you what my plan was," he began, "then that would take all the fun out of it!"

"How are you going to become a shinigami?" Near persisted.

"Patience," Kira instructed teasingly. "Everything will become clear with time." He turned his back on his captives and faced Rem. "Shinigami, are you prepared to do what must be done?"

Rem glared at him. "Speak the words, human, and it will be done."

Kira's smile was anything but kind. Of course… the Shinigami King had told him the exact conditions that had to be met in order for him to ascend to godhood. There were four steps, and throughout all of them there were certain words that had to be spoken. One, a shinigami had to kill themselves willingly for the human intending to take their place. Two, the dead shinigami's Death Note had to be taken into possession by the human. Three, the human would have to find another human willing to allow the future shinigami to kill them. The only stipulation for the murder was that it couldn't be carried out via writing their name in the Death Note. It had to be committed with a knife, a gun, or even bare hands. It was quite amusing, really—normally, shinigami weren't allowed to harm humans using means other than the Death Note. But in this situation, it was required. Kira hadn't bothered to ask for the logic behind the whole thing, but he very much doubted that there was any to begin with. But that was besides the point—after the sacrifice of a human and a shinigami, the last step was entirely up to the Shinigami King. The King had to enter the human realm long enough to give his approval. He would observe the human and judge them, and if he found them a favorable replacement for the dead shinigami, then he would grant them the powers of a shinigami. They would become a literal _god._

It was exactly what he'd been aiming for since the very beginning, in a way.

"Very well, Rem," Kira purred, realizing that he'd been silent for several moments, and the successors were beginning to give him odd stares. "I will begin." He shot a glance at Beyond, silently telling him to prepare for his part of the ritual. He had a very special role to play, after all.

Beyond hesitated for a moment, a concerned look on his face, then crossed the several feet between them swiftly. He straightened his back and reached up, taking the scarlet-haired teen's face in his hands and kissing him harshly. Kira blinked, surprised at Beyond's sudden kiss, but leaned into it nonetheless, reveling in the gasp he heard from Soichiro.

Then it was over, just as soon as it had begun, and Beyond was shooting him an intense glare across the few inches that separated them. "Be careful," he growled, and if it had been spoken in any other tone, it might have sounded loving. "It would be an inconvenience for me if you were to die."

Kira tugged thoughtlessly at his shaggy black hair before responding, "And I expect you to be careful as well. I'm trusting you with a major part of my plan. Possibly the most important part. So don't mess it up, you got that?"

A smirk played across those pale lips, and Beyond nodded. The next moment he was gone, melting silently into the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

"Now," Kira said. " _Now_ I will begin." He snuck a glance at Soichiro once more just to see his anguished expression. Then he closed his scarlet eyes and rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. He heard Rem shifting around, heard the flutter of paper as she opened her Death Note in preparation.

"I beg the attention of the Shinigami King," Kira started, recalling the words the King had ordered him to speak. "I ask that the King look upon me on this night, the night of a new moon, the time in which the barrier between worlds is lowered. Watch what happens here and pass judgment."

Kira's eyes flitted open momentarily to make sure Rem was at the ready. Her pen hovered over the Death Note. No doubt she had done the necessary research beforehand.

The soon-to-be god went on. "For a human to ascend to godhood, a god must first be killed. For this purpose I offer you Rem, a shinigami in your service. She has deemed me worthy of replacing her, and will thus end her life to provide me the power I have earned."

Rem's yellow eye narrowed even further. She was clearly displeased, but Kira had made it very simple—either help him, or Misa would be caught and convicted. For of course, Kira's intelligence was the only thing that covered for Misa whenever she made mistakes. If her only source of protection was killed by L or the successors… then Misa would go down faster than a plane with the wings torn off mid-flight. And if that wasn't enough, then she had the King's orders to go off of. This was her only choice, and she knew it. Rem would sacrifice herself for Kira, and then he, in turn, would protect Misa as a shinigami. No one would ever be able to get the better of her, not after Kira killed the task force and the successors.

Rem stared down at her Death Note. Then she spoke, her voice low and bitter. "I, a shinigami in your employment, have looked upon this human and found him worthy of replacing me as a god of death. In order for this action to be complete, I willingly forfeit both my life and my Death Note. For these purposes I have chosen a human whose death will effect the lifespan of the human I have chosen." Rem pressed pen to paper and began the slow process of ending her own life. Kira remained ever curious as to whom she had chosen to kill. His only stipulation was that it could not be L. He wanted to kill the world famous detective himself.

Rem's pen was still moving. Then, after what seemed like forever, the utensil stopped. The shinigami closed her Death Note and dropped it. It struck the ground with a sense of finality, the wind blowing the book back open and ruffling the pages. Kira moved forward curiously to look at the name. Had she killed a successor? A member of the task force? A member of Light's family? Kira's eyes met the paper, and he frowned.

…He didn't know the name. He looked up at Rem questioningly, only to be met with the shadow of a smirk. He returned the smirk with one of his own, chuckling, "Still trying to get the better of me, even to the end." Rem was obviously still hoping that Kira would lose. That must have been why she had chosen to kill someone on the outside who somehow affected Kira's lifespan rather than a more obvious person like one of the successors. She was still hoping that L could pull out a win. And to do that, he would need all his successors and all the members of the task force to stay alive. "I applaud your ingenuity, Rem."

The shinigami nodded in acknowledgment. "I do what I can, human."

"I won't be a human for long," Kira threw back. His eyes darted down to his watch. "Ten seconds." Ten seconds until that poor human whose name was written in the Death Note died of a heart attack.

"I expect you to keep your promise," Rem spat out as her last few seconds ticked away. "Protect Misa with your life."

"Do you really think that I'd die for her?"

No response. Rem just shook her head sadly, lowering her eyes. "I honestly do not know what you will do after this, Kira. I only hope that Misa will survive the massacre you are about to instate."

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

One.

The end.

Rem's single showing eye widened as a tremor shook her form. Kira leaned forward, fascinated to see what the death of a shinigami looked like.

It was almost beautiful, in a morbid way.

Small particles began flaking away from Rem and falling to the ground all around her. What was it? It looked almost like rust, or perhaps reddened sand…? Whatever it was, it was beginning to flake off of the shinigami at an alarming rate. Small holes appeared in her skin that swiftly expanded, pouring more and more sand onto the forest floor. A breeze began to flow through the clearing, swirling the particles up into the air and scattering them to the wind. Kira sneezed as a few particles found their way into his nose. He nearly gagged at the concept of a shinigami's weird _sand_ being inhaled.

Rem was nearly dissipated. And all the while, even as the shinigami sank lower and lower, closer and closer to the ground, her feet, legs, waist, torso dissolving grain my grain, her yellow eye was locked on Kira. And as bits of that yellow iris began to flake away, Kira had the unnerving feeling that even though Rem had lost her life, she had won. Something in the way she smiled with that half-degraded mouth, the way her eye shimmered. She looked almost triumphant.

And then, again—

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

One.

And she was gone.

All that remained of the shinigami was a pile of the sand-like substance, and even that was swiftly being whisked away by the wind, dissipating and scattering across the forest floor, shooting up into the sky. The Death Note lay where it had fallen, the notebook open to the most recently used page. Kira approached it slowly and picked it up. He felt it. The sudden shift that signified ownership being passed to him. He glanced at his watch. It was 11:24.

"You killed her!"

Kira's eyes shot up to meet Matt's. The successor was staring wide-eyed at the pile of sand. "Yes," Kira confirmed. "And now the first step is complete."

"So what's next?" spat Near. "Are you going to murder us now?

"Hmm… I wasn't planning on it. I was planning on becoming a shinigami so I can savor your failure." Kira looked out to the edge of the clearing. He couldn't spend much time prattling on with the successors if he wanted to complete his little ritual. "We're wasting moonlight. It's time for the second step. Beyond!"

The shadows shifted, and Beyond reappeared. Only he wasn't alone. The shadows beside him were rippling, darting away from the person standing close to Beyond, as if the darkness itself feared the being. The shadows fled further and further as the person moved, and then suddenly the moonlight was striking cream-colored skin and bright red lipstick, dancing around dark makeup and bouncing pigtails. Blonde hair shone in the darkness, lighting up delicate features and a perversely revealing outfit. Kira recognized the person, of course—how could he not?

It was Misa Amane. The second Kira.

"Misa!" Matsuda exclaimed, some glimmer of hope in his eyes. Perhaps he thought that the model would help him and the others. "What are you doing here?"

She tilted her head to one side with a bubbly grin, one hand waving a Death Note in the air teasingly. "Hi, Matsu! I'm so glad to see you!" She didn't answer his question.

Beyond gave Misa a little push, sending her towards Kira.

"Misa," Kira greeted, allowing his lips to curl upwards in an imitation of an appreciative smirk. "Have you regained your memories?"

Her eyes shone brightly. "Oh, yes!" she gushed. "Oh, Light, I was so happy when Beyond gave me the notebook! I remembered everything!" She threw her arms around her supposed boyfriend a moment later, constricting him as a boa would its prey.

Kira gave Beyond a small nod of thanks over Misa's shoulder. He'd given the murderer his own notebook to hold, then requested that he give up possession of the one he was currently using. That way he would be able to give his old notebook to Misa and hold Kira's so he wouldn't lose his memories. This way, Misa had regained her memories exactly as planned, and no one had to lose their memories. Though, Kira thought, it wouldn't be long before _Misa,_ at least, lost her memories for good.

"Misa," Kira purred, pulling the blonde model close, gazing down into her crystalline eyes. "Has Beyond explained everything to you?"

"He has!" came the response. "He told me all about your ritual!"

"Yes," Kira murmured. "My ritual requires the services of someone who loves me more than anyone else… someone who would do anything for me. Would you do anything for me, Misa?"

"Of course I would!" Misa cried. "I would do anything if it made you happy!"

"This will make me _very_ happy. In fact, if you do this for me, then I will love you for the rest of my life."

"Really? You really mean it?" Misa squealed happily. "Oh, yay! What do you need me to do?"

Kira bit his lip in a false show of nervousness. He already knew that Misa would perform her part. He just needed to say the right thing. "Misa… this may frighten you, but please hear me out. You know that I am going to become a god. I've already completed the first part of the ritual, but the second requires someone very special to help me. I need someone who loves me more than anyone else to sacrifice their life for me. I need someone to speak the right words and let me kill them. But once I become a god, I can bring that person back from the dead, and they can be with me forever." Bullshit. Complete bullshit, and Kira knew it. He wouldn't have the power to resurrect anyone. But all Misa needed to do was believe him long enough for her pathetic little heart to cease its struggle. Kira almost laughed. After all, he was breaking his promise to Rem mere minutes after her death. He fully intended to kill Misa Amane—he had since the beginning.

Misa looked stunned. "Wow…" she whispered. "I have to… let you kill me?" She sounded shell-shocked, completely unprepared for the gravity of what she was being told. "But you can bring me back? And once you do we can be together forever?"

"Forever," Kira assured her.

"Well…" She sounded almost hesitant, which surprised Kira. He'd thought that she would be throwing herself onto his knife at this point.

He needed to say something, and fast. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. Beyond is completely willing to give his life for me if you don't want to. Of course, then _he_ will be the one that spends forever with me, but that's a small matter in the grand scheme of things. I'll still have time to see you every once and a while…"

"No!" Misa screeched. "I mean… I said from the very beginning that you were free to kill me. And if it means that I get to spend forever with you, then I gladly offer my life!"

She had obviously regained her composure. Kira checked his watch again. 11:31.

"Good, Misa." Kira took the Death Note from her hands and tossed it to the ground. His fingers skirted the leather of his belt until he found the kitchen knife he had stored there especially for this night. A gun would be cleaner, he knew, but if he was going to kill Misa, he was going to enjoy it. He was going to watch the blood spill from her pretty throat. He supposed that Beyond had rubbed off on him in more ways than one.

He gently tugged on one of Misa's shoulders, turning her around so she couldn't see what was happening. He leaned forward and whispered instructions in her ear. He told her exactly what she needed to say and when she needed to say it. Then he opened his mouth to begin the required words, and—

Something rustled in the bushes behind him. Kira whirled around, expecting to see Beyond watching him apologetically, having bumped the bushes slightly. But Beyond was on the opposite end of the clearing, and his scarlet eyes were locked on the bushes as well. One hand clutched a knife, waiting to see who would emerge from the undergrowth.

A head of dark hair poked out from the leaves. A white shirt followed, then a pair of baggy blue jeans and a pair of shoe-less feet.

"Oh my god—" Beyond started furiously, teeth baring in the beginnings of a snarl.

Kira felt a scream building in his throat, a scream caused by the realization that _this_ _wasn't over,_ as he stared at that head of dark hair, those wide, obsidian eyes that had just emerged from the bushes.

"L," Kira growled, and he found himself thinking again that this wasn't over yet.

Not even close.

†††

L crashed through the forest desperately, the faint traces of moonlight just barely illuminating the path enough for him to see. He could tell by the thick undergrowth that no one ventured into this forest often—what he called a "path" was actually just a slightly flattened trail of footprints that led deep into the trees. But it didn't matter how overgrown this forest was. He would have traversed the most dangerous terrain on earth if it meant reaching Light.

Leaves crackled underfoot, branches clawed at his exposed face and hands, his eyes began to ache with the effort of seeing where he was placing his feet. But he kept fighting forward. And at some point during his battle to progress, he became aware of the almost crushing silence surrounding him. The only noises coming from the forest originated from his ceaseless crashing. All the wildlife had gone completely still, even the smallest sounds of the tiniest insects nonexistent. It was unsettling. Had the situation been any less severe, he would have stopped to marvel at the eeriness of it all.

…Wait, perhaps it wasn't completely silent. There was an odd sound ringing through the forest, a strange, metallic tolling that almost sounded otherworldly. L paused for only a moment to tilt his head curiously to one side. He recalled suddenly how the Shinigami King had warned him of his impending demise, and how Rem had gazed so sadly at the numbers ticking down above his head. What had they seen? What had made them look at him with such pity?

L harshly tore a flimsy branch out of his way. His mind was screaming to him that their pity most likely meant that his lifespan was dwindling, but he refused to listen to himself. He wouldn't accept the reality of his imminent demise.

He yelped softly as a branch lashed him across the shoulder. He had removed the sling so his hands would be free, but the barely-healed dislocated limb was still paining him to no end. That, of course, in addition to the sharpening ache in his ribs that was making it harder and harder to progress. But the thought of Light, _his_ Light, cowering in terror in the back of his own mind propelled him onwards.

And then he heard something.

Voices, though they were still muted through the trees. They weren't far away. Instinctively L paused to listen. He thought he could pick out Kira's voice, though it was hard to discern. He slowly began picking his way through the undergrowth, attempting cautiously to conceal his location. He hoped dearly that no one had heard his clumsy approach, for he wanted very badly to sneak up on Kira and shoot him before he was spotted. That would be the best outcome. No blood, no fight, no death. No mistakes.

L saw a patch of faint moonlight through the trees a few feet in front of him. A clearing stood before him, with one great oak tree in the center. As he neared, the silhouettes of three people became more and more pronounced. He caught a flash of red hair. Scarlet eyes.

Kira and Beyond were in that clearing. And it seemed that Misa was with them as well. L frowned. Why would Misa be there? What would she be useful to Kira in this situation? As each step carried him closer to the group, L suddenly realized that the three of them weren't the only ones in that clearing.

"No!" L hissed through clenched teeth, then immediately clasped a hand over his mouth in horror. But it seemed that his voice was too soft, or the faint sounds of fireworks were too loud, for his voice to be heard. He squinted to make sure, but he was completely certain that the task force and the successors were bound to trees in a rough semicircle around Kira. He had already taken them down.

He heard a soft laugh, and his eyes shot to Kira. The scarlet-haired teen was holding something in one hand. The Death Note. And at his feet…

L frowned. It looked like there was a pile of ashes at his feet. For a long moment his mind refused to put two and two together, but then he remembered—the Shinigami King had told him what seemed like ages ago that the first step to becoming a shinigami was to kill one off. Once killed, said shinigami would dissolve into a pile of something that looked like sand, but wasn't. This could only mean one thing—that Kira had just killed Rem, and was moving on to the second step.

"Here to watch the show?" rasped a strange voice.

L jumped, whipping around, only to see Ryuk floating a few feet off the ground behind him. He'd never seen this particular shinigami before, but Light had described him in detail. "Shinigami Ryuk," L panted softly, his heart racing from his sudden scare. "I was wondering when you would show yourself."

The shinigami shrugged, crossing his arms behind his head and grinning. "I've been hanging around here while Kira executes his little plan. It's been _so_ interesting…"

"And are you going to tell him that I'm here?" L asked.

Ryuk shrugged again. "Nah, I don't think so. At least, not if you make things more interesting."

L shuddered at the expression on the monster's face. He obviously didn't care what happened at all, not as long as it entertained him. It was sickening. If he would just help L, this fight could already be won. But instead he was just going to stand here, watching people die.

 _Sickening._

L turned away from Ryuk without another word and began to fight his way through the bushes forming a barrier around the clearing. He almost gasped as a thorn pierced his skin. He tugged the fabric of his shirt loose as it snagged on small branches. He was rustling the undergrowth, but still no one noticed. Kira was standing behind Misa now, whispering something in her ear.

Then L felt something collide harshly with his back, and this time there was no containing a _loud_ gasp as he tripped and fell forward through the bushes.

The figures in the clearing froze. Beyond's knife was in his hand in a heartbeat, eyes locked on the bushes where L was already becoming visible. L glared behind him, furiously trying to locate what had hit him, and came face to face with Ryuk's nasty leer. The bastard had pushed him!

"Sorry," Ryuk cackled. "It's no fun if you just sneak in and shoot him! You at least have to put on a show!"

L growled low in his throat. Then, seeing no other choice, he tugged himself loose of the clinging thorns and stepped out into the dull light illuminating the clearing.

"Oh my god!" Beyond snarled furiously.

"L!" Kira roared.

L immediately composed himself. His mind raced. He knew that if he could get one clear shot at Kira, he would take it. But just as before, he only had one shot. He would have to be sure that he would make contact before he shot. There would be no second chance. He made sure there was a cool, easygoing expression on his face before he spoke. He made the slump of his shoulders seem completely natural. "Kira," he greeted. "Is your plan going well?"

Kira just stared at him in disbelief. "Misa, say the words. I'll take care of him."

"But, Light!" Misa protested.

L flinched. Misa still believed that Kira was Light? She still thought they were the same person?

"Please, Misa," Kira murmured. "Do this for me, and I promise all will be well."

The model's eyes flitted back and forth between Kira and L, clearly uncertain. "Well…" she trailed off.

"Misa," Kira murmured. "There isn't much time."

She blinked up at him. Then she smiled. "Okay, Light! I'll do it!"

"That's better." Kira kissed her on the cheek, then turned back to L with a loathing expression on his face. Behind him, Misa began to speak.

"I stand here on this night as a testament to this human's worthiness, as a sacrifice to bestow upon him the ultimate gift of godhood…" she prattled on.

Those words had meaning, L realized. Those were the words the Shinigami King had referred to, the words that meant the ceremony was taking place. And that meant that Misa was going to be the human sacrifice rather than Beyond. L frowned. He had assumed that Beyond would be the one dying for Kira. But then again, if it were a choice between killing Misa, who had little to no value save for her eyes, and killing Beyond, who not only had the eyes, but was just as intelligent as Kira, then it was obvious which one would be chosen. Misa was just devoted enough for it to work.

"Misa, stop this!" L attempted, stepping forward. He heard soft gasps coming from the watching task force and successors. He thought he heard a faint plea coming from Near, but he ignored it in favor of staring down Kira.

Misa ignored him, the words still spilling from her lips. Beyond passed his knife to Kira, taking from him a gleaming kitchen knife in return, and L knew that the moment she was done talking, that knife would inter itself deep in her throat. All of the years she would have had would be transferred to Kira. "Misa!" he tried again, but she still remained wholly focused on reciting the words Kira had given her.

"It won't work," Kira snarled, eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You know, L, I almost hoped that you would show yourself here, but now that you're right in front of me… I can't help but feel disappointed that this is all you had in store for me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he laughed. "I expected a grand fireworks show, and all I got was a few easily-extinguished firecrackers! Oh, L, you should have seen it! Those tiny firecrackers, the gleaming lights of the task force and your precious successors…I took them down so _easily!_ "

"But you _weren't_ the one who took them down, am I right?" L's eyes darted to the pile of ash, which was swiftly being blown away by the breeze that was steadily increasing in strength. A particularly harsh current forced him to raise a hand, sweeping black locks from his eyes. Across the clearing, Kira was delicately picking scarlet strands from where they were waving about over his face.

"Perhaps I wasn't the one who physically restrained them," Kira said, "but I was the one who thought up this whole scheme and set it into action."

L's baggy shirt flapped violently in the wind. The trees rattled and swayed in protest, leaves tearing themselves from the branches. "You cheated."

"I'm _evil,_ L," Kira chastised. "You should know better than to expect valor from the likes of me."

"Perhaps I expected valor from Light." As he spoke, L slowly inched closer. He drew his gun in one swift motion, not bothering to hide it. After all, Kira already knew his plan.

Misa's shrill voice grew louder as he came closer. "…willing to give the remaining years of my lifespan to the human ascending to godhood, so that said human can survive the transformation…"

Kira's laugh was almost completely lost to the wind. "You can expect _nothing_ from that pitiful boy!" he spat. "No, that's not true—you can _expect_ him to roll over and submit to me! He will not come back just because you call to him!"

"I am more than aware of the situation." Two more steps. If he could just get close enough…

"Stop!"

L froze.

Kira slowly stepped back, leaving Beyond to guard Misa. He steadily retreated to the tree directly behind him, where Near was tied in the center of the semicircle. The blade of Kira's knife immediately went to the successor's throat. "Don't take a step closer, L. Not unless you want him to die."

L's eyes met Near's. Those crystalline gray eyes were shimmering with barely concealed tears—the boy was scared, and guilty. L jerked his gaze to Kira. The teen was standing in such a way that hitting him would be impossible. Especially in this wind.

Kira pressed his knife harshly into Near's pale skin, and a line of red appeared.

"Stop that!" L spat. "I'm not moving!" He waved his free hand down at his feet, which were firmly planted near the pile of ash.

Misa's eyes suddenly snapped open. "I did it!" she announced. "I said everything!"

Kira nodded approvingly, not moving from his spot beside Near. "Excellent, Misa. Please come here."

Misa nodded excitedly. She bounced across the few feet separating her from her supposed boyfriend, then stopped, staring up at him adoringly. The poor girl was so thoroughly brainwashed… it was terrifying.

"Thank you for doing this, Misa," Kira purred. "I promise you, after this is all over, we will be together again."

The model nodded loyally. There was no doubt in her expression, no reservation in her actions. It was sickening. But it was more sickening, L thought, that Kira had made such a promise to Misa with no intention of keeping it.

Kira looked back to L. "If you even _look_ like you're about to attempt to stop me, Near dies. And then _you_ die. Understood?"

L nodded, calculating his odds. Beyond still stood between him and Kira, and Near was going nowhere. Kira had shut and locked every available door. There seemed to be no chance of stopping him without making a sacrifice. But before he had a chance to follow that train of thought to its conclusion, Kira was speaking.

"I, a human seeking the immortality and powers of a god of death, recognize the sacrifices that have been made in order for me to reach my noble goal."

L's mind raced. He had a choice. What would he do? Sacrifice Near for just the _chance_ of getting to Kira? Or stand here indefinitely while Kira became a shinigami and then proceeded to kill them?

…Well, when it was put that way, the answer was obvious.

"As proof my dedication to the shinigami way of life, I offer a sacrifice to the Shinigami King and his people."

L's best chance to act would be when he was in the act of killing Misa. When his knife wasn't pressed into Near's neck. Unfortunately, that meant that Misa would die. A chill swept through L at the realization that he didn't care what happened to the model. As long as he saved Light, Misa's death was insignificant. He thought briefly that he should be disturbed by his utter lack of compassion for her life. But Kira's continued speech drew his attention.

"I have studied and internalized the rules and procedures that must be adhered to as a god of death, and I fully submit to the laws instituted by the Shinigami King. But before taking the place of the shinigami that gave its life for me, I must break one of the primary rules of the shinigami. I must kill a human with my own hands to prove that I am worthy of promotion to godhood."

So he had to kill a human to prove that he could handle being a shinigami. How morbid.

"This human has willingly provided me her life so that I may achieve my wish. I take her life with gratitude, and hereby swear that this will be the only time I ever take a human life by any means other than the Death Note. " Kira's knife left Near's throat and moved to Misa's.

L recalled the Shinigami King's words. After Misa was killed, the King had to appear in order to bestow the powers upon Kira. That meant that time was running out. And as the knife pressed firmly to the flesh of Misa's throat, L knew that the time to act was _now._

 _I'm sorry, Near._

L suddenly threw himself forward, sprinting across the clearing just as the knife began tearing through Misa's flesh. Beyond started, clearly surprised. But it took only a moment before he was moving to intercept L. His knife was still in Kira's hand, his kitchen knife thrown aside, but his fists were just as deadly as the metal implement. Beyond brought up his fists and slammed one of them into L's chest, knocking him back. The murderer then prepared for L's second attempt at getting past him, but gasped in surprise as L rose with startling speed and whirled around him rather than attacking him dead on. L aimed a jab into Beyond's back, sending the man careening to the ground. There was a soft thud as he hit the leafy forest floor.

Kira wasn't paying attention to him. He was too focused on Misa, and the knife sticking from her throat. His eyes were locked on the dying model's bloodied flesh. Kira's fingers traced almost lovingly over the hilt of Beyond's knife. Then he gripped it firmly, and in one, swift motion, he finished tearing it through Misa's neck.

Blood spattered the ground, spilled down Misa's front, stained Kira's clothing and face. Her eyes widened, a gasp leaving those delicate lips. Her hands came up briefly to feel the clean line in her skin. When she drew her fingers away, they were so red that it was impossible to locate even a trace of her pale flesh. Kira stepped back and allowed the blonde to crash to the ground, blood pooling around her and expanding outwards, tracing the outline of her body as it spread. The puddles of scarlet clouded around her arms and ran in rivets away from her, making it look as if she had bloody wings.

Kira looked up just as L crashed into him. The murderer was pinned almost immediately, and L's gun snapped up towards his head. Kira reacted with a soft gasp, tearing himself from L's grasp and rolling out of the way of the gun's muzzle. He knew, after all, that if that bullet struck his head, it was over. Kira grabbed L's wrist, angling the gun away from him and up into the sky. L's free hand immediately shot down and delivered a harsh blow to Kira's cheek. The flesh split, and dark blood began to drip down his face, perfectly matching his scarlet hair. Behind him, L heard Beyond scrambling to right himself on the slippery, leafy ground.

Kira slashed upwards with the knife still clutched in his free hand. L dodged the blow swiftly, seizing Kira's wrist between his pale fingers. The two were in a deadlock, both hands held immobile by the other's. L felt Kira struggling to kick him off, and immediately tightened his grip on the teen's hips with his legs.

Their desperate scramble halted as both geniuses realized that they had come to a stalemate. Kira shook his head slightly to displace the hair covering his face, smirking up at L. Then he turned his gaze to the side, away from the dark-haired detective looming over him. For a moment L wondered where the teen was looking—but then he noticed Misa. Her eyes were still open, the blood still pooled from her wound…but she was obviously dead. Her chest had ceased to move, and her eyes were glazed. A pang shot through L's chest as he thought about the model's meaningless demise—and his complete lack of empathy for her.

"Shinigami King, I have fulfilled all the requirements set in place by you, and as is such I request a place working beside you to shorten the lives of humans." Kira's perfect lips moved swiftly, eyes locked onto L's.

For a moment L was confused. Then his eyes widened, and he began fighting Kira's grip furiously. He couldn't allow the teen to speak those words! He couldn't let him finish the ritual! If he managed to finish the required words… then it would be out of his hands. The Shinigami King would grant him godhood, and it would be over. The teen was still speaking, weaving the words that would mean Light's death.

L had to act swiftly. He rolled to one side, pinning Kira's hand with the blade beneath him. He felt the sharp metal slice lightly into his back, but he ignored it in favor of using his now free hand to reach up and seal his fingers around Kira's throat. The teen gasped pathetically as his breath was forcefully halted. L's fingers tightened furiously, his vision turning white with fury. Kira's breaths grew shallower and shallower, his eyes widening, mouth held open as he fought against L's grasp. The teen's fingers slackened around the detective's wrist, the wrist that connected to the hand holding the all-important gun and bullet. L shook off Kira's loose grip with one sharp movement and swung the pistol downwards.

" _No!"_

L suddenly felt something crash into his side, throwing him off Kira and pinning him to the forest floor. Then the next heartbeat the weight was gone, leaving the detective struggling to regain the breath that had been knocked out of his lungs. His vision blurred, and he felt the pistol wrench itself from his fingers, felt someone kick him harshly in the shoulder.

"Bastard!" the same voice spat, and L realized suddenly that it was Beyond standing over him, the gun clutched between his fingers. The murderer left L with a huff, darting to Kira's side. The teen was on his stomach, propped up on one elbow as he hacked and coughed. Beyond skittered to a halt beside him, the gun falling from his grasp and coming to rest beside Kira.

"Kira," Beyond hissed, one hand falling to his lover's back and rubbing in soothing circles. "Kira, are you okay?"

Kira rubbed furiously at his throat, on which bruises were already beginning to blossom. He rolled shakily onto his back, drawing in sharp, painful breaths. "I-I'm f-fine," he rasped, cutting himself off with a fit of coughing. He began struggling to right himself, hands and feet slipping across the leafy forest floor. Beyond threaded an arm around Kira's shoulders and carefully helped him stand. The soon-to-be god seemed to have no reservations about Beyond's support, leaning into the dark-haired murderer heavily. Kira raised a hand and dabbed at the bleeding cut across his cheek. "W-with all your conditions met, I-I…" he trailed off, chest heaving. He was clearly still recovering from L's harsh grip. "I call upon the Shinigami K-King to pass judgment upon me!"

L shot to his feet immediately. His vision cleared as he regained his footing, and he saw very clearly that it was almost too late. Maybe it already _was_ too late. _It doesn't matter. I still have to try!_ L darted across the clearing towards Kira and the gun. Beyond left Kira in response and met L with a harsh punch to the chest, which L shakily dodged. He gripped Beyond's still-extended arm and jerked his knee up towards it, reveling in the screech the murderer released as the bone snapped. Beyond drew his broken arm to his chest, drawing in jagged breaths as he faced L.

"It's too late!" Beyond snarled, lunging forward with his knife extended towards L's throat. "The King is coming!"

The wind in the clearing was growing more and more unforgiving, flattening the grass and stirring up the slickened leaves. The pile of ash that had once been a shinigami was completely gone now, stirred up and flying around the clearing at random. L made a move to attack Beyond, but was stopped as a tree branch tore from its place far, far above his head, and careened to the ground directly in front of him. The smaller branches clipped his chest and face as it fell, and L felt the skin split painfully. Scarlet liquid began to drip down his face and stain the white fabric of his torn shirt. Beyond seemed to be in no better condition, the murderer flailing and falling backwards as the branch struck him in the side with dangerous force. The faint, almost nonexistent moonlight began to flicker like a failing light bulb, and L found himself looking up to locate what was blotting out the light.

A large shadow had fallen across the sky over the clearing, flitting in and out of existence with every breath L took. In the shaky light L managed to catch a glimpse of Beyond, sprawled across the ground on the other side of the fallen branch, and Kira, who stood staring up at the sky eagerly. It appeared that the Shinigami King was about to enter the human world.

L yelped as another branch thudded to the ground just to his right. His voice was swept away by the wind, ripped from his lungs by the howling wind. He heard a few faint screams over the storm, and his eyes darted up to locate the task force and the successors. They were still firmly tied to the trees, their gazes directed upwards save for one—Near. The white-haired boy stared directly at him in the failing light, expression one of terrible guilt. His lips moved, and though his message was swept away in the storm, L could read his lips clear as day.

"I'm sorry, L! I'm sorry!"

L's teeth closed on his bottom lip painfully. He couldn't focus on Near right now. He had to do everything he could to save Light while there was still time. The detective took a step forward, the wind battling him at every turn. The gun was miraculously holding its place beside Kira; the muzzle must be caught on something. L began to move forward as swiftly as he could, the wind resistance harsh on his aching body. As he neared the gun, the wind only grew more and more insistent, pushing him away with all its strength, and the faint light was flickering faster and faster.

And then, just as L was reaching out his hand to grasp the gun, it all went dark.

The light went out, and it didn't come back. The wind had stopped as well. Just like that, all was still. The entire clearing had gone completely silent. Even the faintest rustling of leaves had vanished. L felt as if he had been tossed into the void, left alone to go insane in the endless darkness. The sudden change in atmosphere startled L so much, in fact, that he completely halted his advance towards the gun. He knew, logically, that it was mere _feet_ from him, and all it would take was a few more steps and he could grab it. But his senses were being harshly assaulted by the perpetual nothingness, and he found himself stunned into complete stillness.

Then he heard a soft whistle, as if the wind was returning, but not in that vengeful manner it had taken up previously. He saw nothing, but he heard the breeze softly flow around him, ruffling his hair and flowing soothingly against L's split skin.

Next he saw the appearance of stars. L's face turned skywards, eyes seeking out the tiny pinpricks of light that were appearing one by one in the sky. The stars had returned, but their light wasn't quite reaching the ground. Around him, still, there was darkness.

There was a sudden moment of eerie stillness.

And then, _light._

A massive, terrible burst of light filled the clearing, expelling the darkness and replacing it with a blinding mass that shot beneath L's eyelids and jabbed at his eyes. The beautifully painful light engulfed everything in the clearing, filling its space with a dull hum that completely shut out the soft whistle of the breeze. L fought his eyes open despite the iridescence, seeking out the dark outline of the gun, but all he could see was yellowish brightness.

And then, just as swiftly as it had begun, the light died down to a single area right in front of the oak tree. The light shimmered and rolled, shifting with what could only be described as _life._ L's eyes widened. He was drawn to the light, called towards it despite his mind screaming that he had to get to the gun before the Shinigami King ended the ritual and granted Kira the powers of a shinigami. He shut his eyes forcefully.

"I am the Shinigami King." A voice bled from the illuminated area, and L realized that for the first time he was seeing the King's _true_ form, not the form of that weak child he possessed. "I have seen the offerings of this individual, and I have been called to the human realm to pass judgment."

 _No!_ L knew those words! The Shinigami King was completing the ritual, and he only had a few more lines to speak! L turned on heel and scooped up the gun. His eyes darted around the clearing. He spotted the task force and the successors, still safely tied to the trees and watching the Shinigami King with identical expressions of awe. He saw Beyond, pulling himself to his feet shakily and leaning on one of the fallen branches. The murderer coughed weakly, and L knew that he wasn't going to have the strength to stop him should he attack again. And then there was Kira. The teen was standing before the Shinigami King, and he was _glowing._ Kira was quite literally emitting a soft, beautiful, scarlet glow. The glow swirled around him like a cloud, clinging to his form and making him look like a god. Which, L thought, was completely unfunny.

"Having watched your actions and accepted your sacrifices, I have determined that your heart is—"

"Stop!" L screamed, making Kira jump. "Shinigami, you can't do this! You can't stand here and tell me that you think Kira's heart is pure enough to become a shinigami!"

"Pure has nothing to do with it!" Kira spat back. "Shinigami are corrupt, terrible beings! They're completely worthless, and no one cares what kind of heart I have! This is all just a formality!"

The Shinigami King hadn't even paused. "I have determined that your heart is entirely worthy of ascension to godhood. Therefore, with this touch I grant you the powers of a god of death. Use them well, human." The King leaned forward, hand extended to seal it to Kira's forehead.

"Shinigami King, please!" L cried, lurching across the clearing in his direction, wheezing as his lungs expanded to press against his fractured ribs. He thought he saw the King shoot him a mournful glance, but it could have been his imagination.

 _I'm not going to make it!_ L realized. _It's too late!_ But still he sprinted, sprinted until the shinigami king's hand was _inches_ from turning Kira into a shinigami. Then he stopped, planted his feet firmly in the loose soil, and raised the gun so it was level with Kira's head.

 _I'm sorry, Light!_

L pulled the trigger.

And this time, the gun fired.

 **Tell me, my lovely readers...do you _really_ think it'll be that easy? Or do you think that I still have one, final trick up my sleeve? A card that I've left unplayed? ****I'm curious...now, before the final part of story's climax...what do you think will happen? What do you _want_ to happen? I'm eager to hear your predictions, and even more eager to see if what you want correlates with the story's ending. So go ahe** **ad, let me know what you think!**

 **As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as well as the little cliffhanger I left just for you. If you did, and if you're excited to read the last few chapters, then be sure to leave me a review!**


	26. Spirits in the Stars

**Welcome to chapter twenty-six! To my lovely reviewers: I want to say something, I want to answer all of you, but I _can't!_ Saying anything will give it all away! So thanks for reviewing, but you'll just have to read to find out where this is all going ;) (Also, check out that badass foreshadow-y chapter name! Hell yeah!)**

 **This is the point in the story where I tell you that _this is not the last chapter. There are twenty-eight chapters in all, which means there are still two more after this one._ So before you get all mad at me because of this chapter, remember that there are still two left. Seriously. Chill.**

 **Warning: severe drama and cheesiness ahead.**

 **Chapter 26: Spirits in the Stars**

The resounding crack of the gun filled the clearing, and for a moment, everything was still.

The Shinigami King stood facing L, his hand firmly clasped to Kira's forehead. Kira's eyes were firmly shut, his lips slightly parted. And in the dead center of the back of his head…

There was a bullet hole.

The Shinigami King's gaze remained firmly on L. The detective stared desperately back, a question in his eyes. _Did I do it?_ He asked silently. _Did I save Light?_

The King's eyes shimmered, and if L didn't know better, he would have said that he was _amused._ But he didn't answer his question. Instead, the King removed his palm from Kira's forehead and stepped back. "It is done," he said simply, and L wanted to scream, _what is done? What did you do?_ But he didn't, and in the next moment the King was gone.

"Light?" L asked shakily, his legs wobbling as he moved forward. His _head…_ now that his adrenaline was beginning to die away, swiftly flooding with fear in its absence, his head was beginning to hurt more and more. His shoulder throbbed, his ribs ached…his whole body felt as if he'd been put through a meat grinder. And Light…the teen was still standing in the exact same place, blood dripping from the hole in the back of his head, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. "Light, can you hear me?"

The teen was still for a moment more. Then he turned, eyes still closed, and faced L. One hand reached up and rubbed over the hole in the back of his head. When his fingers drew away, they were bloody. But unlike if he had been shot with a real bullet, Kira (Light?) didn't collapse, didn't die immediately as the bullet tore through his brain.

L stayed back, not wanting to be near the boy if the bullet hadn't worked, if he was about to turn into a shinigami. After all, L and the Shinigami King had struck at the same time. Either one of them could have reached Kira first.

And then the teen's eyes opened, and L knew that he had made a terrible mistake.

His eyes were red.

Kira stood stalk still for a moment, clearly assessing the damage to his body. Then his eyes met L's and he grinned toothily. "It seems…" he whispered, raising his bloodied fingers to wipe them on his shirt, "…that you failed, L Lawliet."

L supposed that he should have cared that the monster had just told the task force and the successors his real name. But he knew that if Kira had won, he was going to be dead in a few minutes anyways. And Light…

L's eyes were drawn to Kira as he suddenly gasped, hunching over with his arms wrapped around himself. The scarlet-haired teen cried out, and a crimson haze began to build around him thickly. "Light…?" L whispered, though he knew that he had failed, that Kira was becoming a shinigami, that Light was going to die…

Something moved beneath Kira's shirt. Something was shifting about on his back, expanding, pressing against the fabric. For a moment L was confused, until he remembered that shinigami had to _fly,_ and thus they needed _wings._ The thought both horrified and intrigued him.

The two appendages sprouting from Kira's back were straining forcefully against his shirt. The fabric was struggling to contain the swiftly growing wings, but it was clearly no use. It was only a few seconds more before the fabric split under the terrific force being applied, and Kira's shirt fell off him in shreds.

The clearing was suddenly silent, and L realized abruptly that Kira had been screaming the whole time.

The god fell to his hands and knees, chest heaving, hair hanging limply in his face. The red aura was still gathering around him consuming his entire form as it accumulated. In moments Kira was no longer visible. The only hint that he was still present beneath the fog was the soft cries and flashes of movement that came from within. L began to move forward, then halted. He had no idea if that mist would hurt him.

"L, get away from there!"

L barely heard Matt's cry.

"Yeah, come on, L!" Mello broke in. "That stuff's supernatural, you can't get near it! Who knows what'll happen to you?"

"Who knows what will happen to _Light,_ " L corrected softly, far too softly for the successors to hear. He took a mindless step forward, ignoring his strong suspicion that this aura _wasn't_ friendly. His fingers reached out towards the cocoon of scarlet.

His fingertips had barely brushed the aura when it happened.

A loud boom thundered through the clearing, a sound that greatly resembled the explosion of a hand grenade. And as the sound reverberated in L's ears, he felt a sudden blast of energy that threw him to the ground. The scarlet aura surrounding Kira dispersed suddenly, scattered across the forest floor and seeping into the leaves. Within seconds the mist was gone, leaving behind…

A _god._

L stared slack-jawed at the being standing before him. He… was _beautiful._ No, beautiful wasn't the right word…nor was gorgeous, heavenly, elegant… there was no word strong enough to describe the ethereal, angelic appearance of the shinigami before him. Kira's physical form was different, yes, but he wasn't like Rem or Ryuk. No, he was very much like his former self, but the subtle changes were enough to make him stunningly beautiful. His hair, still that shocking shade of red, was glossy and sleek, every strand perfectly in place. His eyes shimmered with not only scarlet, but with a ring of yellow. Shinigami eyes. The cut on his cheek had been completely healed, and all of his skin was colored a healthy shade of honey, practically glowing in its cleanliness. His shirt was completely gone, the shreds lying scattered across the forest floor. His muscles were defined in sharp, neat lines, and it was all L could do to look away from them. His slacks were perfectly clean, shoes polished flawlessly. And his _wings!_

The most noticeable change could be found in his massive, looming wings. They weren't bat-like like the wings of Rem, nor were they crow-like in a way similar to Ryuk. No… they were more akin to angel's wings. Iridescent and luminous, the two appendages were pristine in their crisp whiteness, each feather perfectly shaped and in its proper place. Kira extended the wings, flapping them once experimentally. Then he turned his dark gaze on L, and the smile he gave him nearly knocked the detective off his feet. His teeth, which had been perfect before, had been almost impossibly improved, just like the rest of him.

"Lawliet," Kira spoke, and his voice was like velvet. "Do you like it? Do you like what has become of your precious Light?"

L's voice caught in his throat, and he couldn't help but think that if this were Light, he would be very much pleased with the transformation. But a slight shake of his head cleared those despicable thoughts, and he managed a glare in Kira's direction. "I suppose I have failed, then?" His voice cracked as he spoke, and he cursed it.

Kira laughed, throwing his head back. "I am sorry, my dear Lawliet, but you have. I can feel him dying…"

L's heart twisted with pain. "Then I suppose you will kill me now." His voice was flat, lifeless. He had failed. The reality had yet to sink in. The reality that Light Yagami was surely dying within Kira.

Kira tilted his head to one side, and the look on his face was nothing short of godly. His wings fluttered restlessly behind him. "I suppose the time has come." He took a step forward, and the breeze that suddenly filled the clearing seemed to come from the god himself, radiating outwards in what L suspected was a surge of power. Kira walked steadily, pausing for a moment when he reached Beyond, who was still leaning breathlessly against one of the trees not occupied by a member of the task force.

"You've done it!" Beyond managed, arm still clutched to his chest. His eyes shimmered with stunned disbelief, his expression devoid of its usual arrogance. "You've become a god!"

"Beyond…" Kira murmured. He snapped an arm outwards and pulled the older male into a kiss that lasted only a few moments, but left Beyond gasping nonetheless. "This is the beginning of a new world," he whispered in the murderer's ear. "After this, we will work together to rid the world of _filth._ "

Beyond nodded breathlessly. "Yes, Kira!"

Kira moved away from Beyond and continued his advance on L. The detective told himself to retreat, to run away from the god bearing down upon him. But his feet wouldn't move. What was the point? Kira would kill him no matter what. And now that Light was gone, why did L even want to continue? There was no hope. No reason to go on. And so as Kira approached, L held his ground and clenched his teeth, squaring his shoulders.

Kira was inches from him now. The monster reached out a hand and cupped L's jaw. "Lawliet," he whispered. "I long to tear you apart with my bare hands, but… as a shinigami, I am forbidden from harming a human by means other than the Death Note. So…" The teen held up the notebook, which had seemingly appeared from nowhere. He flipped it open and produced a pen, pressing the inky utensil to the crisp paper. "What?" he purred, noticing L's stony expression. "Not afraid to die?"

"If it is truly over, then I have no reason to fight you," L growled.

Kira looked almost disappointed at that. But he simply shrugged, shaking his head. "Very well, Lawliet. It seems that I have no choice but to—"

Kira's voice suddenly faltered and died in his throat, his eyes growing impossibly wide. His lips parted, and a soft gasp left them. The Death Note fell from his fingers, the pen dropping to rest on the leafy forest floor beside it.

"Kira?" L asked, curious. "What has occurred?"

The god didn't respond. Instead he staggered backwards, chest heaving, soft cries leaving his lips. He hunched over, arms wrapping around himself, those faint cries escalating into a single, ear-piercing scream. He struggled to take a step towards L, but his legs shook violently beneath him, and a heartbeat later he was forced to stop to keep himself upright. Fingers twisted in his hair, tugging harshly. "Stop…" he gasped out, the scream dying in his throat. "Stop, stop, _stop_ …"

Now L was growing concerned. He inched forward, halting in his tracks when Kira's head snapped up, those reddish yellow eyes locking onto his with a glare filled with unfathomable fury.

"You!" Kira gasped out, all his anger lost in the pained tone of his voice. "You did this! What did you do?" Then his legs gave out, and the god collapsed flat on his face.

L stared. Then his eyes widened to a state much like Kira's. For there, on the back of the god's head, was the bullet hole… and it was still _bleeding_. L gaped. Any shinigami would have stopped bleeding and healed the wound automatically by now. But that wound, the wound inflicted by the life-giving bullet, was still bleeding, and the flow was growing _faster and faster._

"Kira!" Beyond cried out, scrambling forward on unsteady legs. His features twisted painfully as his broken arm was jarred.

Kira managed to prop himself up on one elbow, raising his head to scream at Beyond, "Stay where you are! Don't come a step closer, no matter what!"

Beyond's eyes flashed with confusion, and he attempted, "But Kira!"

"I gave you an order, Beyond!" Kira roared in response, his body convulsing weakly on the ground as his arm slipped from under him. He choked, "If you take one step closer, I'll kill you! I'll _kill_ you, Beyond!" But his venom was somewhat lost in the leaves muffling his voice.

L couldn't keep his eyes off the god. He dropped to his knees in an almost mechanical movement and crawled to Kira's side. The god was coughing and hacking, cheek pressed into the leafy ground. L's fingers found the bullet hole, and he gently pressed on the area. Kira's screech of pain was immediate. One of his hands flew out behind him in an attempt to strike L, but the detective caught the blow with ease.

L slipped his hands beneath Kira and rolled him onto his back. The god's body was shaking and twitching violently now, his eyes glazed and rolling back in his head. Was this… the bullet? Working? A spike of joy sprang up in L's heart, but he crushed it swiftly for fear of getting his hopes up. Instead he shot a glance at Beyond, who was standing uneasily at the edge of the clearing, no doubt adhering to Kira's death threat, then slipped his hands across Kira's chest. His heart was pounding swiftly.

Wait—his heart?

L dropped his head to listen to the frantic beat. Yes… that was his heart! Kira was still partly human! A picture of the situation was quickly developing in L's mind. The King had planned it this way, oh yes—at the exact moment the bullet struck Kira's head, the King had started the process of turning the teen into a shinigami. And seeing as that was definitely the case, Kira's ascension to godhood had been halted mid-way. He still had human elements—which meant that Light could still be alive!

L's heart dropped into his stomach. Oh god, how was he going to purge Kira _now?_ Was there even still a chance? Would the memory-erasing properties of the bullet even work? L's fingertips brushed across Kira's face as he thought. The god's eyes flickered open and closed repeatedly, the scarlet dull and hazy. Kira was attempting to speak, his lips moving without sound. And then, in a moment of startling clarity, Kira spoke—and nothing could have prepared L for what happened next.

"L…" the teen rasped weakly. But it wasn't in a malicious tone. It sounded almost innocent, almost _pure,_ like—

Like Light.

"Light?" L cried, shaking the teen lightly. "Light, is that you? Can you hear me?" He echoed his earlier words, this time with far more hope.

The god thrashed weakly for a moment more, and then his eyes opened wide, and the color within them was not the muddy scarlet that signified Kira, but the clear, clean mahogany that meant that _Light_ was here, that _Light_ was in control! L's heart skipped a beat. "Light!"

Light looked up at him, his expression nothing short of agonized, and L was suddenly reminded of how the teen had felt when he was battling Kira back at headquarters. He remembered the pained spasms, the soft cries, the way Light had clutched at his lover's shirt and buried his head in his shoulder. L couldn't watch him go through that again.

"L," Light repeated, his voice strained. "L, I—"

" _No_!" Light cut himself off, and then the amber gleam in his eyes was gone, replaced with the cruel crimson. "I will not let you ruin this, Light Yagami!"

Kira began kicking at L, and the detective swiftly threw himself over the teen to restrain him. He had no idea what was going on—the bullet was supposed to remove all memories of Kira, but Light seemed completely aware of his darker half…had being struck mid-transformation changed something? Or was Light's momentary control due to the slow destruction of his memories? Brought back to his senses by Kira's struggling, L straddled his waist and cupped his face between his hands. He forced the teen to look directly into his eyes. "Light," he whispered, his voice almost entirely drowned out by Kira's enraged screeching. "Light, please… come back to me!"

Amber returned for a heartbeat, but was swiftly replaced by scarlet. Then the amber was back, and gone again a moment later. Light's eyes became a muddy mix of brown and red, mahogany and crimson, swirled around each other and fighting for dominance. L could only hope that as time passed, more and more of Kira was vanishing along with all memories of the Death Note. But it was too good to be true—the Shinigami King had said that a shinigami's memories of the Death Note could not be erased. So would some of Light's memories be left untouched…?

L had no idea what was going to happen, and it terrified him.

"L, I've m-missed—" Light attempted to speak again, and was cut off. But his message carried on to L, bringing tears to the detective's eyes.

"I… I've missed you too!" he choked out, pushing down his doubt so Light wouldn't see just how terrified he really was. "Just hang on, Light!" One of his hands found Light's, and he laced their fingers. "Don't let go!"

The teen gazed at him through a mixture of auburn and rubicund, managing a short nod through the spasms shaking his form. His eyes forced themselves shut suddenly, and Light's back arched off the ground as he screamed.

Kira was back. The monster roared, "You fool, L! You've ruined everything!" The teen panted momentarily, not giving L a chance to respond before his next outburst. "Now I'm going to have to fix your mess! I'll find Light and _kill_ him once and for all!"

"You can't kill him," L said immediately, his voice low and dark. Could…could Kira kill Light? Even now, now that he'd been struck by the bullet? It was possible—L was swimming in uncharted waters, so to speak. He had no idea what was going to happen, or how the bullet would function in this scenario. Maybe it would do something entirely other than it was supposed to.

Kira's fists were clenched, and dribbles of blood were beginning to leak from where his nails had sliced into his perfect skin. His eyes locked onto L's. "Oh, really?" He could barely form words through the evident pain. "I suppose we'll see, Lawliet!" Then the god laughed, an ugly sneer on his face.

That expression made L afraid. It made him feel stupid, as if he were missing something incredibly obvious, right under his nose. What was Kira up to? "What are you up to?" he asked, speaking his mind.

All he got was the gleam of white teeth. Then Kira's expression suddenly dropped, his entire face going lax. The limpness swiftly spread through his entire body. His limbs fell completely still, his back loosely hit the ground, his head lolled on his shoulders. The god fell back against the ground, all signs of consciousness gone.

"Light?" L asked fearfully. He reached up and caressed the god's cheek. "Come back…" His eyes darted up as he caught a flash of movement. Beyond had moved closer by a few feet. He was now standing a few feet away from the great oak, where L and Light were located. "Stay back!" he ordered. And though Beyond shot him a nasty glare, the murderer obeyed. No doubt he was still paying heed to Kira's orders to come no closer.

L's gaze dropped back to Light. His expression was completely devoid of emotion, his entire body limp in L's grasp. The detective steadily pulled his lover's head into his lap, twisting his fingers in scarlet strands.

He didn't know what had just happened, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

†††

I was floating.

I wasn't sure how long I had been floating, but I knew that it had to have been for years. Perhaps millennia had passed in this comfortable lull, this perpetual state of nothingness that curled around me and clung to my limbs. I had no way to count the time. All I knew was that I was floating along, moving, though it was slow, through a curtain of black. But it hadn't always been black, I knew. For a few days—months?—in the beginning, the world around me had been red. I'd been in the cave…the child shinigami had hauled me out of the red sea and left me in the cave, telling me that I was just going to have to sit there until it was time for me to fight back…but that had been a long time ago. Had I fallen asleep? Or had the world around me literally gone black? Ah, yes, that was it…so, so long ago, the world around me had faded, as if someone had flicked a switch. In the beginning I'd fought with all my strength, thrashing about, kicking out at nothing, eyes locked on the darkness. But staring into the endless blackness was the just the same as having my eyes closed, and so eventually I just closed them as not to remind myself of where I was. I didn't want to remember that I was in that awful cave, that horrible place devoid of mental stimulation. I wasn't sure how long I'd struggled, but it couldn't have been for long. Soon I began to feel tired—no, _exhausted._ And not long after that I'd realized how useless it was to continue fighting the haze of sleep, and my fingers and toes had stopped moving. Next had gone my arms, then my legs, then my torso and head, and finally, even my brain had ceased its struggle. I couldn't recall the last coherent thought that passed through my lax mind. I think I knew, somewhere deep inside my failing mind, that the darkness was lulling me into submission, that it was not to be trusted. I think that I knew it was evil. And most of all, I think that I knew I was going insane. I think I knew that the darkness was all in my head, so to speak, and that I was slowly losing my grip on reality. But I was too slow to stop it, and the instant those inky fingers sunk into my brain, it was over. The numbness spread through me like a disease.

Sometimes I saw things, though.

Not hallucinations. Not visions. Actually, I suppose one might call them visions… What I saw were flashes of what was going on around me in the real world, the things that Kira was doing with my body. The child shinigami had told me that if I could concentrate, focus all my energy on seeing what Kira was doing, I would be able to do just that—watch what Kira was up to, just as he'd watched me. But though I tried that at first, I soon found that it was so much easier, so much more calming, to simply lie there and wait. But that didn't stop me from seeing flashes of what was going on. There were a lot of them at first, back when I was still struggling with all my might. I saw Kira lying with Beyond in the bed they shared, speaking with each other about their plans. I saw Kira writing names in the Death Note, names that didn't belong—the names of innocents. Then lots of smaller visions, of Kira looking in the mirror, of Kira sleeping, of Kira staring blankly at a wall, puzzling over what to do next. But whenever I looked for too long, whenever I found the energy to pry just a bit deeper, Kira's hand descended upon me and caused me pain, _so much pain…_ It became easier to hide, to float carelessly through the fog that I knew was a product of my creeping insanity.

Eventually, I saw L through the webcam, and heard what Kira was saying to him; it was the first clear memory I'd had in what felt like months. Maybe it actually _was_ months. It was hard to tell, submerged in the sensory deprivation tank that had become my mind.

The sight of L that day, or night, drove me insane—insane, that is, in a less literal way than what was becoming normal. It reminded me, if only for a moment, what I was fighting for. As much as it horrified me, I had almost forgotten why I was alive. My entire world had gone black, and then L's eyes—dark though they may have been—cast a ray of light down upon me, piercing through the inky black space around me and shaking me from my stupor. But as beautiful as that moment of clarity had been, it hadn't lasted for long—all it took were a few days, a few hours even, and I slipped right back to sleep.

Then there was the Shinigami King. Oh yes, that I _did_ remember. I remembered how betrayed I'd felt when I realized just who the child shinigami was, and just what his motives were. I heard him say that Kira was going to turn himself into a shinigami, thus killing me. But by that point I had already slipped away again, and I couldn't bring myself to care.

As the days progressed, I had fewer and fewer memories. Fewer visions of the real world came my way, and I spent my time thinking and doing nothing. I floated on and on, and didn't care where the tides of darkness took me. My eyes were still closed. Save for in the visions, I hadn't opened them once. I felt my muscles weakening from disuse. It was funny… almost like when L had restrained me before this whole mess started.

L… there was that name again. What did it mean?

…I couldn't remember.

I was all but dead. But then, just as I was nearing death, I heard something. I heard something for the first time since Kira took over. I heard someone's voice screaming to me, and then there was _pain._

I knew without seeing that I had been shot. I could feel the hole in the back of my mind, could feel the blood seeping from my head. I had been shot, and the thought was comforting. Perhaps I would die, and all this would end. Although, my understanding of what "this" was wasn't quite up to speed. My mind still felt as if it were stuffed with cotton.

"Light! Light, can you hear me?"

I recognized that voice…was it this "L" character that I was so hung up on? I frowned, and realized that it was the first movement I'd made in what felt like years. My face ached from the simple stretching of muscles. It was much easier to let myself fall limp once again, so I did so. But then I heard the voice again.

"Light!"

And again.

"Light!"

I groaned. The voice was getting annoying. Couldn't it just let me sleep?

 _You've been sleeping long enough, Light. It's time to wake up!_

For a few long moments I was confused. Wake up? I was asleep? What…?

But then something sparked in my mind. I felt something stirring within my chest at the sound of that voice, and that name—L—raced to the forefront of my thoughts. That was L calling me! _L,_ the man I loved! How…how had I forgotten? I tensed my whole body in an attempt to move, and managed a slight wiggle of my fingers and toes. My mind began to race. I nearly gasped as I realized the extent of the fog clouding my thoughts. It was subduing me, keeping me from thinking in anything above basic patterns! I struggled against that fog, feeling great satisfaction when it lifted enough for me to realize what was going on. With a start, I remembered Kira's plan to become a shinigami. That must be what was going on! I wrenched at my arms and legs, forcing them to move under what felt like millions of pounds. The darkness bore down upon me, locking me into place.

 _Why do you care?_ It whispered. _Just sleep, little one… rest and all will be well when you awaken._

 _Awaken?_ I spat back silently. _I'm not going to awaken, damn it!_ _Not if you keep me here!_

And then I really _did_ gasp as I realized the extent of those words. I… wasn't going to wake up! No, that couldn't be… I had to see L! My mind was clearing now. I screamed silently as I freed myself of the darkness, prying its fingers from my mind and body. I sat up with a loud screech, my hands shooting to my eyes and rubbing furiously.

And then, for the first time in forever, I opened my eyes… and gasped.

The world around me was no longer black. It was _red,_ just as it had been before I'd fallen asleep…but something was wrong. And that something just so happened to be the copious amount of water filling the cave I was lying in. It was the same cave as before, the same cave the child shinigami—no, the _Shinigami King_ had dropped me in. But somehow, sometime when I was asleep, water had flooded into the cavern, swirling around me and submerging me almost entirely. I touched my lips and felt that they were dry. The same could be said of my nose, my forehead, my cheeks…the water hadn't covered my face. I was still able to breathe. I remembered with a start what the Shinigami King had said about the water— _if you fall back in, it'll slowly kill you. It could take months, it could take days. What matters is that if you stay in the stuff for too long, your whole body will shut down. It'll lull you to sleep, and you won't wake up._

 _It'll lull you to sleep…_ I realized with horror that that was exactly what had happened. The world going dark around me…it must have been the water. It had flooded into the cave when I wasn't looking, filling it to an amount just low enough so that I could still breathe. If the water level had risen any further, if I'd woken up any later…I'd be dead.

And with that, I realized that the water level _was_ rising, even now. And if I didn't get out of the cave, _now,_ then I really _would_ die. I lurched to my feet, wincing as I put weight on my legs for the first time in forever. My muscles felt like jelly; the water was reaching up with invisible fingers, struggling to pull me back down. But I fought through the stuff, sloshing towards the cave exit—the place the Shinigami King had told me never to go, for the red sea would simply reach out and suck me back in if I dared to get close. My fingers latched onto the wall beside the hole leading to the outside world, and I paused just long enough to regain my breath. And then, preparing myself for the endless sea of red just outside the grotto, I leaned forward, slipped just my head outside, and—

 _Oh._

What…what was this?

The world around me…it was red, but it… _wasn't._

The red sea, the sea that had haunted me for so long, was infested with bluish silver. The red was diluted with said silver, the two colors swirling and clashing, waves growing larger and larger, water churning more and more violently. As my eyes darted upwards I saw that the sky was much the same way—red, just like before, but with streaks of silver cutting across, bleeding outwards, turning certain areas a light, metallic pink. And were those _trees,_ jutting upwards from the chaotic surface of the water? Dark, silver, _trees_?

When had this gotten here? What was it, and how long had I been blind to it?

And then there was a voice.

"Light, please come back to me!"

"L!" I cried out, my voice raspy and weak after months of disuse. I wasn't sure if I had control of my own body, but it was still comforting to hear the name of my lover spoken aloud in my own voice. "L…"

I felt a sharp pain clutch my mind. I felt as if something was being forcibly removed from my brain, as if some terrible poison had entangled its threads through my mind and was now being yanked free. I thought briefly that this was Kira attacking me, but no… this was different. This was a different pain.

"Light!"

One more time, the voice sounded. And then I saw him.

L was crouching over me, his face inches from mine, and I suddenly realized that somehow I was lying on my back again. And I _saw_ him, not in a memory, not in an image conjured by lies, but right in front of me. _Real._ I clenched my fingers, and they closed firmly around his hand. He was really here, kneeling over me!

"Light, can you hear me?"

They were an echo of the words I'd heard inside my mind, but they sounded much more _real_ now. My ears ached as they readjusted to hearing something other than my own thoughts. "L!" I gasped out. "L, I—"

His hands gripped my shoulders tightly, as if he were afraid I was going to disappear. And then I _did_ disappear, if only for a moment, as I felt Kira pierce his talons into my mind and take control, and for a heartbeat I was thrown back into that silver-streaked darkness. When I clawed my way back to L his eyes were watering, and I doubted that he even knew it was happening.

"L," I managed weakly. "I-I've missed—" My voice failed me again.

A drop of salty liquid splashed onto my cheek. "I've missed you too, Light," he whispered. His grip tightened impossibly.

My vision flickered back to darkness again. I barely heard L cry, "Light, hang on! Don't let go!" I felt him squeeze my fingers, and I managed a faint squeeze back. But Kira was fighting me, and for a moment I imagined I was lying in bed with L, struggling to keep Kira at bay, just like I'd been before this whole mess began. Then I was thrown back into reality, and I heard Kira howling. He swore to destroy me, to find me and end me, that it was all L's fault… and I understood.

The bullet… it had pierced my skull mid-transformation. I was half Light half Kira, half human half shinigami. The bullet was helping me fight Kira, yes, but was that all it was doing? It was meant to destroy memories, I knew…so which ones would it go after? Had it already begun destroying my memories? I realized suddenly that it _was_ —holes were appearing, widening, and parts of my mind were fraying under the strain.

And then my vision went completely dark. I knew immediately that I had lost consciousness in the world above, and had been returned to the silver-streaked reality of my own mind. And sure enough, when my eyes snapped open, I was standing in the cave entrance, staring out over the silvery red water. More and more land was appearing, more and more trees were sprouting forth from the conflicted water, and I knew that if there was a time in which I could leave the grotto, it was now. I hesitantly tested the water with the toe of one shoe, and was immediately stunned to feel solid land beneath my foot. The water…I looked closer, and let out an audible gasp when I saw that it was only about six inches deep, giving way to soaked grass and leaves. And as I watched, that water was sinking further and further into the waterlogged earth. I immediately set one foot on it, and when it held, I began to move away from the grotto, eyes searching the colorful darkness.

"Kira!" I yelled, relieved to find more and more of my strength returning as I moved. "Show yourself, monster!"

There was a roar through the silence. Then something moved, and my eyes were drawn to a figure writhing on the ground a few feet from me, previously covered by the water. A mirror image of myself bathed in red, a carbon copy made of scarlet, twitched and screamed on the ground, flinging droplets of retreating water up into the air. Those red eyes snapped open and glared at me, a monster's eyes in the face of a human. Kira.

"Light Yagami, you bastard!" Kira screamed, hauling himself to his feet, staggering slightly. "I'll kill you for this!" As he moved I saw that tiny particles of what could only be described as starlight were eating away at him, the flickers of white flame nibbling at his clothing, his skin, his hair. His scarlet form was disappearing bit by bit, and at the rate he was going he would last much longer before the last particle flaked away. I suddenly had a horrible thought, and looked down at my own body.

 _Oh god…_

I was made of moonlight. My whole form was made of silvery light, just as Kira's was made of scarlet. My entire form was so silver that it glowed slightly blue, all traces of the previous red gone from my body by some miracle that I didn't dare question. And just like Kira, I was disappearing. Tiny particles of starlight were eating away at my body, and as I watched, bit by bit, I was dissipating. In a short while I would be gone, just like Kira.

"The bullet," Kira snarled furiously, still stalking towards me. "That damned bullet hit us mid-transformation, halting it when we were still part human! That bastard L ruined everything! Now the bullet doesn't know whose memories to destroy, or what to do, and it's going after both of us!

My eyes widened as I understood. The tiny particles of starlight…they were fragments of the bullet. And those particles flaking away from us…they were our memories. The bullet had been designed to eliminate only one of two personas via the erasing of my memories, and now it was faced with four, and two of them weren't even _human_. It was confused, and picking off memories at random. If this went on, it was just as likely that _I_ would be the one forgotten. Raising a hand to watch the particles float away, I said aloud, "It's eating away at our human personas."

"It's eating away at _all of us!_ " Kira screamed. "It's killing us all! Shinigami, human, Light, Kira, it doesn't care! It's defaulted to erasing everything in sight, and we're directly in its field of vision!"

I paled. So this was it, then. I would die with Kira. As far as deaths went, it wasn't so bad. Dying alongside a monster so that said monster couldn't harm anyone else.

"This is all your fault, you bastard!" Kira went on, his voice raised in a frightening screech. He launched himself at me without warning, pinning me to the ground that had just formed beneath me. My fingers raked through silvery red blades of grass, and suddenly the colors—silver, red, everything—began to vanish.

As Kira screamed obscenities, all I could see were the trees around me. Each tree was outlined with moonlight made of the same silvery stuff that I was. But as I watched, that silver began to turn to black. That dead, nasty color spread down the trunk of each tree, and began to creep across the grass. The blades, swiftly turning black, soon ultimately devoid of any other color, swayed in the breeze that shook the trees. My eyes darted to the space directly above me, and I spotted a sky full of blackening stars and a bright, full moon. Unfortunately, what was happening was all-too-clear to see—that darkness…that _blackness…_ I could have laughed. I'd known from the beginning that the parts of my mind that were under my control were silver, and that the parts of my mind that were under _Kira's_ control were red. And now, that dark, oppressive color was swallowing both up entirely, claiming my mind as its own. It was painfully obvious what was happening—the bullet was the darkness, and the darkness was _death._ It was death, eating away at my mind, at _Kira's_ mind, claiming not just our memories, but our lives.

So this was the product of attempting to erase the memories of a half-shinigami. It was a death sentence.

"Are you even listening to me?" Kira demanded in a scream, seemingly unaware of the inky blackness spreading out around him. "Do you even care? You're never going to see your precious detective again, do you understand that?"

"No…" I whispered, and Kira responded with a painful shake of my shoulders. My head struck the ground, but not hard enough to do any damage. But then, a moment later, Kira's nails were clawing into my throat—and that _did_ do damage, and I could practically feel my life draining away faster and faster.

Kira stopped suddenly, staring down at me with wide eyes. For just a moment I didn't understand what he was staring at—but then my eyes fell upon his hand, held a foot above my throat, and I understood.

Under his nails, staining his skin, flaking to the ground…were some of those silvery particles that made up my entire being. When he'd clawed at me, when he'd tried to bring me harm, he'd managed to speed the process of my disintegration—and I could only guess that once said disintegration was complete, I'd die. And if Kira had been able to speed that process by attacking me…

"Well," Kira snarled, teeth glinting in the dim light. "Would you look at that?"

I opened my mouth, hoping to say something that would dissuade him, but it was too late. I felt Kira's slim fingers clutch at my throat once again, and I knew immediately what he was thinking, what he was doing.

"It may already be too late," Kira sneered, affirming what I already knew, "but if there's the _slightest_ chance that killing you will stop the bullet from taking away all of our memories, then I'm going to take that chance. And even if it _is_ too late, and we're both headed for the grave, then I'll still get the satisfaction of _killing you._ "

My heart sank as he told me his plan, but that dull feeling of horror was nothing in comparison to the sudden ceasing of oxygen to my brain. Kira's fingers were locked around my throat like a vice, and I was barely able to draw breath. I struggled to raise my hands, to shake him off, but my movements were painfully sluggish.

"You'll die here, Light Yagami," Kira snarled. His fingers tightened, and I felt my oxygen supply completely vanish. I immediately did the only thing I could think to do—I raised both hands, fighting viciously against my own weakness, and wrapped them around Kira's throat in turn. The monster gasped, stunned that I would dare to attempt attacking him. But the fear swiftly chanted to anger, and suddenly he was tightening his grip further and further…

I began to panic. I was becoming lightheaded, and my vision was edged with black. I couldn't die like this—not after everything I'd been through to get to this point! I let my hands fall from Kira's throat and I swiftly began to use those stellar acting skills that L always complimented me on. I thrashed and choked, cursed in a weak tone and slapped weakly at Kira's hands. Then, when I felt I had done enough, I let myself go completely limp in Kira's grasp. It was a risky move—there was the large chance that Kira would continue to strangle me to death. But I had no other option—I had no more strength to fight him. I needed to breathe, and playing dead seemed the easiest way. So I lay completely still, eyes closed and body limp.

For a single, terrifying moment Kira's hands remained firmly around my throat. Then he released me, sitting back on his haunches over my body and panting desperately. I immediately gasped in a huge breath, the air choking me and forcing me into a coughing fit. Kira realized his mistake immediately. His eyes widened and he lunged forward, intent upon repeating the action, and doing it _correctly_ this time. He intended to kill. But this time, when his fingers had barely brushed my bruising throat, I rolled out of the way and kicked him as hard as I could from my position. Evidently, it wasn't very hard. The god grunted, but wasn't slowed down in the least. He leapt to his feet at the same time I did, and threw himself at me like an untamed animal. Remembering my finesse, I sidestepped and drove my elbow down in between his shoulder blades. This time he clearly felt it—he yelped and crashed to the ground, where I kicked him harshly in the side once again. He grabbed hold of my ankle as it neared him, and in an instant I was lying on the ground once again.

"Bastard!" Kira gasped, repeating his favorite insult as he sprung to his feet seconds before I did. This time it was I who struck first, punching him squarely in the chest and following it up with a knee to the gut as he hunched over. The god twisted his fingers in my shirt as he went down, and for the third time that night I went crashing downwards. This time I didn't bother getting up. I jerked to one side as Kira rolled me onto my back, looming over me threateningly. His fist split the skin of my lip, and the coppery substance dripped into my mouth. I brought up one knee and lodged it between me and Kira, using the leverage to roll us over so that I leaned over him.

"Stop this!" I cried out. "You've been beaten! We'll die here, Kira—together." Even as I spoke more and more particles were flaking away from the both of us. Just a little bit longer…

"Speak for yourself!" Kira spat. "I'm not going to die with the likes of _you_!" He thrashed beneath me, kicking and punching in an attempt to dislodge me.

"Please…" I whispered, though I no longer expected him to listen to me. "Please stop…"

He only roared in response. His entire form was dissipating. And looking down at myself, I realized that I wasn't far behind. The bullet was killing us. I remembered L's distraught face, and a terrible pain ripped through me. I was never going to see him again.

"You fool!" Kira screamed, still struggling. "Let me go! Don't you see what you're doing? Without the righteous judgment of Kira, what is there left for the world? Earth will go back to functioning the way it always did, rotting to nothing as _criminals_ pick away at it! This world is _rotten,_ and you're stopping me from purifying it! When did you lose your sense of justice?"

My eyes widened. Was this really what I'd sounded like before this whole mess started? Was this my line of reasoning? Was this what I'd sounded like to L? I'd been a lunatic! "You're insane," I whispered. "I can't believe I ever agreed with you."

"I am the god of the new world!" Kira screamed. "I will destroy all evil!"

" _You_ are the only evil that needs to be destroyed," I retorted softly. I felt strangely calm, now that the end was nearing. I was disintegrating faster and faster. It wouldn't be long now…

Kira stilled for a moment. He stared at me, and his gaze was suddenly completely calm. Then he smirked. "Tell me, Light, do you think this means you've won? Does dying with me equal a win in your book?"

"Yes," I responded. "It does."

For just another moment, Kira was still. Then he acted. In one, massive surge of strength, he threw me off him and got to his feet. He was standing over me in a heartbeat, leering nastily. He raised his foot and attempted to stamp down on my chest, but a swift roll out of the way spared me a world of pain. I got to my feet shakily.

I shook my head, and particles flew off me. Then Kira lunged at me, and the world flickered before my very eyes.

As Kira's fist whirled past my face, the world suddenly took the shape of the bedroom I shared with L at headquarters. Just like the forest, everything was painted in shades of black and silvery red. I gasped in surprise, and barely managed to return Kira's punch with one of my own. I unfolded my fingers halfway through the blow and raked my nails down the god's face. Lines of red welled up across his flesh and dripped down onto his shirt. I drew my hand away, and was disgusted to see that skin and loose particles were stuck under my nails. Kira, however, didn't even blink before lashing out again. He threw himself at me and wrapped his arms firmly around my middle. I cried out as Kira smashed me against the wall of the bedroom, my ribs popping painfully.

Our surroundings changed. This time we were grappling in the center of the black, silver, and red investigation room. I kneed Kira in the stomach, and we were suddenly battling in my living room. Kira swung his arm at my head, and we were fighting in the Silver Warehouse. I drove my fist into Kira's cheek, and we were grappling beside the bed in the hotel room Kira had stayed in with Beyond. Kira tackled me to the ground, and we were back in the clearing, scrabbling about in the black grass. Kira pressed his knee into my throat and sneered. He was barely visible now. The particles were pouring from him, and it would be a matter of minutes before he was completely gone. I knew I wasn't any better. As I raised a hand to push at Kira's knee, I saw that it was barely visible.

"It's over, Kira," I rasped. "This is all over."

"Not yet." Kira raised his hand, and I saw that somehow, somewhere, he had acquired a knife. I opened my mouth to tell him just how useless it was, but it was already too late.

Kira slashed once, and the blade tore through my throat.

I choked on the blood that suddenly rushed past my lips. My fingers darted up to feel the clean line that tore through my flesh. I didn't miss the fact that Kira had sliced me in the same way that he'd butchered Misa. In the end, just like my former girlfriend, it appeared that I was just another pawn in his game—a pawn that he was disposing of.

Kira drew back his arm and slashed again. This time the knife carved across my chest. Another slice deepened the first, then another, and another, until my torso was littered with terribly deep cuts. Blood poured from my body. I felt my vision going dark. No…I couldn't return to that terrible nothingness! I writhed weakly on the ground, and saw that Kira was just minutes from being gone. If I could just hold out long enough, then I could see him die before I did.

I wasn't going to make it that long.

I could feel my heart thudding slower and slower. My form was dissipating at an alarming rate, the particles disappearing faster and faster as blood fountained from my wounds. Kira was stained red with the stuff. "Goodbye," he whispered, "Light Yagami."

My eyes closed against my will. My chest heaved as I fought for breath. And then, just as I felt myself beginning to fade away, I remembered. I remembered just why I had to stay alive, just why I'd been fighting for this long. It was for _L._ It was because I loved him, because I didn't want to disappoint him, because I knew I would do _anything_ if it meant making him happy, no matter what the cost on my behalf. I loved him, loved him more than anything—and that was why I had to keep fighting. That was why I couldn't just lie here, bleeding to death, while Kira stood over me. I had to fight. I had to stop this. I had to _win._

And then, as if to emphasize my dark thoughts, I heard his voice. I heard the voice of the one for whom I'd suffered so much.

"Light… Light, please, hold on! I know you can do this!"

"L!" I rasped. Blood bubbled at my lips.

"I'm here for you, Light!" L called. I felt a phantom grip onto my arm, and I knew that in the real world, L was gripping me fiercely. "We're in this together, you hear? So make it through this and come back to me, or I don't know what I'll do!" I felt the phantom's touch whisper across my cheek, trace my lips. Then I felt L's soft, full lips on mine, and I almost reached out to grasp the man.

L was out there. L was waiting for me to return. L was still hopeful. I… I had to get back to him!

I moved without thinking. Overcoming my severe fatigue, battling my increasing blood loss, I lurched forward unsteadily and grappled with Kira for the knife. The god was obviously surprised. He let out a soft gasp as I pushed him back, hands wrapping firmly around the knife. My fingers curled around the blade, and I forced myself not to cry out as the metal sliced deep into my flesh. I drew back a hand and slapped Kira across the face. In the few seconds that he went reeling back, I clawed at his hand and stomped as hard as I could on his foot.

"You little brat!" Kira screeched, his hold on the knife relinquishing as he cradled his damaged hand. Nail marks ran down the back of his hand, crossing his knuckles and spilling blood over crimson skin. He hopped backwards on his one good foot. "You insufferable little imp!"

I wasted no time. I swiftly flipped the knife around so I could grasp it by the bloodied handle, then I went after Kira. I fought against my blackening vision as I moved. Drawing the knife back, I lashed out. I felt the blade tear through Kira's shoulder, and he screamed, backpedaling swiftly. Another slash landed on the scarlet-haired teen's cheek, and one hand rose to cup the dripping wound. Particles flew from him with every move.

"You're really trying to kill me? _Me?_ " Kira roared. He flicked blood from his fingers angrily. "You have no idea what you're doing! If I die, then the world will rot away!"

"The world will _not_ rot away!" I snarled, slashing the blade across his chest. Blood spattered me, the red contrasting nastily with the silver that made up my form. "L will be more than enough to ensure the world's safety!"

Kira scoffed, "Oh, your little boyfriend? Do you really think that he'll keep being a detective after you're gone? Do you really think that he'll have any interest in living? No, Light Yagami. Dearest Lawliet will spend his days wallowing in the misery of the world he created, ignoring the slow descent of the world into madness!"

"You're _wrong!_ " My body moved on its own. In a single heartbeat I moved forward, seemingly against my will, and drew the knife once in a harsh, clean motion across Kira's throat. His wounds mirrored my own. The blood spurted freely from his throat.

"You—you—!" Kira sputtered. Scarlet dripped from his chin.

My world suddenly tilted on axis. Kira's image blurred, and I felt my cheek collide with the forest floor. Leaves and grass tickled my face, but it was mere seconds before the pitch-black greenery turned slippery and red with my blood. It hadn't ceased its flow from the wound in my neck. Mere feet away, I saw Kira slip and fall to the ground beside me. His whole body was shaking.

The knife was still in my hand. I had no strength left… but I had to finish this, once and for all.

I had to kill Kira.

With that in mind, I forced my limbs to move. I rolled onto my stomach, hands slipping on the blood-slicked ground. I barely kept my hold on the knife. My whole body was weakening, becoming less and less responsive. But still I managed to drag my form towards Kira. His flailing was beginning to quiet down, becoming weaker as blood fountained from his multiple wounds. I was hardly able to crawl atop the convulsing teen. Kira's body twitched beneath me. His eyes were glazed and bloodshot, hair crusted with scarlet. My grip on the knife slipped as I lost momentary control of my fingers. I switched hands and pressed the blade to a point on his chest, right over where I knew his heart must be.

"Kira," I sputtered through a mouthful of liquid. My chest was beginning to heave desperately, each breath growing shorter and shorter. But I still managed to gasp out, "I'm sorry… I really am. I'm sorry that it had to end this way. I wish that this would have worked itself out without all this. I'm just… sorry."

Kira sneered up at me, but I doubted that he really comprehended what I was saying. He had lost too much blood to even respond to what I was saying. But I saw the look in his eyes, and I understood. I understood that no matter what had transpired, it would have had to end this way. No matter what, this being would always be evil, and had he not been separated from me, I would have been lost. He could never have redeemed himself. Never.

And I felt sorry for him.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. Then, blood dripping from my lips, lungs filling with fluid, I leaned forward, the knife still pressed against the flesh above Kira's heart, and pressed downwards with all my weight.

The blade sank deep, deep into his chest, and pierced his heart.

Kira's eyes were wide for a single heartbeat, the fury in them unimaginable. But then his scarlet orbs glazed over, and his entire body went limp. One, last sigh left his lips, and then he was still.

I sat up straight, adrenaline flooding my veins. I pressed two bloodied fingers to Kira's neck, seeking out a pulse.

Nothing.

Kira was dead.

I stared down at Kira's corpse. The particles were still flaking away from him, bit by bit. And as I watched, the last few particles let him, and his whole body became completely transparent. My knees were suddenly pressing against grass rather than Kira's flesh. The knife stuck firmly in the slickened leaves.

I sat back on my haunches and let the murder weapon slip from my fingers. I brought my hands up to my face. Funny… they didn't look much different after killing someone. I'd thought that perhaps they would have been stained black and rotted due to the evil deed. But it was quite the opposite… my flesh was stained red, and—

I let out a gasp, looking down at my body. The particles weren't flaking away anymore! I wasn't regenerating, or anything that ridiculous, but I wasn't fading to nothing either! I let out a strangled laugh, a laugh that cut off midway to become a cough. Blood spattered from my painted lips. I pushed myself backwards on shaking limbs, then fell onto my back once I was certain I wouldn't be lying in a pool of blood. My eyes raked the starry sky, and I realized that it was pitch-black. The earth around me was entirely coated in that dark, deadly color, and the only specks of color I could see were painted across my form. Silver. No red. It seemed that I'd won. For real this time.

I laughed again. It was over… but had I saved myself? Or would I die here?

I knew there was a strong possibility that I would never wake up.

But my body didn't seem to understand that little fact. For as I lay there, staring up at the inky blackness, I heard L's voice. I heard him whisper to me, "I know you can beat him. I love you…"

I smiled like an idiot. "I did it, L," I spoke aloud, though I didn't think he could hear me. "I killed him. He's gone for good."

"I'm glad," came the soft response. "I knew you could do it." And then I felt soft fingers caress my jawline, run down my cheeks, brush over my eyelids. Lips pressed to my forehead.

And as I felt those lips brushing against my flesh, I realized something—my memories weren't vanishing. There were definite holes, yes, from where that darkness had bled into my mind and torn away at it. But overall, I remembered…everything. And I knew why. The Shinigami King…he'd told Kira, a few weeks ago, that a shinigami's memories couldn't be erased. And now…if Kira had succeeded in his plan, and then I'd killed him…that meant that _I_ was a shinigami. My memories were permanent—and the only ones the bullet had taken were the ones it had managed to get its hands on before I'd killed Kira and claimed the title of shinigami. The bullet had stopped coming after me, in as many words, because my memories could no longer be erased. With the death of Kira, it had reset, in a manner of speaking, and reverted to its original purpose—going after memories. It was no longer confused as to its main goal, and it was no longer attempting to kill me.

"Light," L whispered again, and I couldn't contain my grin, despite the dark knowledge I'd just gained. I reached up a hand and felt those invisible fingers lace through mine. I felt a weight on my chest, and thought that perhaps, in the real world, L was resting his head on my chest.

Then I frowned. Color was beginning to swirl into the dark sky above me. The stars turned from silver to faint gold. The sky turned from black to deep, deep blue. I turned my head to one side. The trees were colorful again! They were brown, green, yellow, orange, every color beautifully blended together! The grass was green again, rather than that lifeless black!

And then my eyes swooped downwards, and I nearly began to cry.

L was there. L was sprawled across my form, cheek pressed into my bare chest, the fingers of one hand threaded through mine, the fingers of the other clenched in my hair. "L?" I whispered, needing to know that it wasn't a dream.

My precious L raised his head to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot and watery. "Light," he choked. "My Light…" He paused, hands fisting in my hair desperately. "Your memories…?" he inquired softly.

"They're intact," I rasped, barely able to speak. "They're mine, L…I have to…have to _keep_ them…"

"Shh," he hushed, stroking a hand across my forehead. "Don't worry about that now. It doesn't matter what happened, or how things turned out the way they did—you're okay now, and that's all that matters." He moved to scoop his arms beneath me, but then he paused, biting his lip. "Your wings…"

My blood ran cold. Wings… I pushed L off me with a weak arm and sat up. I wasn't bloodied. There wasn't a deep slice running across my throat. Kira's body wasn't lying a few feet away. And _of course_ it wasn't because I had killed him inside my own head, not in the physical world. I felt something brush my back, and I shot my gaze behind me.

There they were. Beautiful, snow white, like the wings of an angel. And then the horrible reality hit me, hit me as I looked back to L and saw his name and lifespan floating above his head. I closed my eyes before the numbers could register in my mind. I didn't want to know. It was funny…I'd told myself, in as many words, that I was a shinigami…but now, seeing the actual, physical evidence…it was sickening.

"I'm a shinigami," I whispered, hardly able to believe it. "Kira is dead and I'm a shinigami."

L pulled me into a fierce hug. His arms wound awkwardly around the white appendages sprouting from my back. "It's okay," he whispered comfortingly, but I could tell he didn't mean it. He was just as disgusted as I was. Just as terrified. "You're okay, and that's all that matters."

That was definitely not all that mattered, but I didn't voice my concerns. Instead, I moved my wings experimentally, and found them just as weak as the rest of me. A wave of fatigue hit me, and suddenly L was the only thing keeping me conscious. I felt tears dripping down my face against my will.

L seemed to realize my state of being. He pulled me closer and smiled warmly, an expression that didn't fit his normally stoic face. "Rest," he murmured. "We'll figure it out. I promise. You don't have to worry about it, Light."

I returned his shaky smile and opened my mouth to reassure him.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

I could only watch as a shadowy form crashed into L and sent him sprawling. I recognized him immediately. Beyond Birthday.

"This is your fault!" he screamed, and I realized that he must have figured out what had happened. He'd heard me tell L that Kira was dead. "If you hadn't given up your memories in the first place, this would never have happened!"

I realized he was talking to me, even as he punched and kicked at L, who was still collapsed on the ground. Each blow took them closer and closer to the great oak in the center of the clearing, and further and further away from me.

"Stop this!" I screeched, seeing no other course of action. I struggled to get to my feet, but I could barely move. I was beginning to get the feeling that what had happened to me in my mind wasn't a complete illusion. It had affected me physically, evidenced by the way I couldn't feel my extremities. Even my wings—which I still wasn't used to having—were numb. I wondered if mental blood loss would be my cause of death.

Beyond didn't even look at me. "I will kill you," he snarled in my direction. "But you don't deserve to die first, oh, no! I'll kill the task force, the successors, and dearest Lawli, then move on to you! I'll take you back to the Silver Warehouse and make you bleed for _weeks_ before I let you die!" Beyond drug L up by his collar and slammed him into the great oak. He was only about fifteen feet from me, yet I was powerless to stop him. I felt utterly _weak_!

L rasped out a cry as Beyond smashed his body against the tree trunk. A knife was suddenly in the murderer's hand, and he was slashing senselessly at L's chest. Shallow lines of red appeared. I knew what he was doing—he was going to make me watch L suffer. I flinched as my lover's scream reached my ears.

Beyond cackled mercilessly, swinging the knife back and forth. "Time's running out, Lawli! For both you and your little pet!"

I gnashed my lip between my teeth. What could I do? I had no help. No way out, unless…

Unless I _made_ a way out.

My eyes skimmed the ground frantically. Where was it? I had to find it! I rolled onto my stomach and gazed across the leafy ground. Where… _where_?

There!

I saw it, resting a few feet to my left. I immediately began to drag myself forward, my limbs screaming in protest with every movement. I only had my arms to work with—my legs had gone completely dead. I flapped my wings subconsciously in an attempt to move faster, but all it did was tire me out faster. I looked up.

Beyond wasn't watching me. He had turned his whole attention on L, who was writhing weakly in his grasp. The murderer had his hand locked around L's throat as he carved patterns in his chest with the other. L's mouth was open, but no sound escaped him. I winced as he suddenly snapped his teeth down on his tongue—he was trying not to scream. The thought brought tears welling to my eyes, but I fought them back with a few harsh blinks, still moving forward. And then, suddenly, horrifyingly, my eyes fell upon the numbers above L's head—and this time I was unable to stop myself from registering those numbers, from realizing with a jolt of horror just how little time my lover had left. This was it—I had to move, _now,_ or…or L would die. It was with that thought in mind that I pulled myself forward the last few feet and reached the object of my desire.

I'd reached it. I opened the thing, flipped the pages until I found a blank space. My other hand rose to my lips, and I sank my canines into the flesh. A jolt of pain shot through the appendage as blood began seeping from the bite mark. _No, not enough!_ I bit harder, tearing into my flesh, wincing as a coppery taste hit my tongue. Deeming the amount of blood sufficient, I dabbed the finger of my right hand in the stuff and pressed the bloodied fingertip to the paper.

Beyond screamed, "Is this making you hurt, Light Yagami? Is this causing you pain?"

L screamed again. The numbers above his head flickered.

 _No…_ I didn't respond. Instead I focused on moving my shaking fingers across the paper, my blood forming letter after letter. It took all the strength I had left. It took _everything_ I had, and my entire body was shaking before I completed the task. But when I was done, two words stared out at me accusingly in scarlet font. Two, deadly words.

 _Beyond Birthday._

I looked up. Beyond was still screaming obscenities, his knife still carving away. L's eyes found mine, and he shook his head slightly, as if reassuring me that it wasn't my fault. I smiled at him mindlessly, and watched his confused expression. I was counting the seconds.

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…

This was the longest forty seconds of my life. I clenched my teeth.

Thirty-eight, thirty-nine… _forty_.

Beyond froze. The knife slipped from his hands and hit the ground with a thud reeking of finality. The murderer released L and staggered backwards, both hands moving to clutch at his chest. He choked and sputtered, managing to spit out, "You bastard!" I almost laughed—almost. It was so much like something Kira would have said. But by the time the words registered in my ears Beyond was falling backwards, his body outlined beautifully in the starlight. His bloodied form hit the ground, and he didn't get back up.

L hadn't moved from the tree. His eyes were locked on the body of his enemy, watching the shudders and convulsions wrack his body. But the instant that twitching body fell still, L's eyes locked onto mine, and realization spread through him in an instant.

He was beside me immediately. His eyes raked the Death Note, and I knew that he saw what I had done. "No!" he cried, dropping to his knees beside me. His fingers brushed the notebook, his touch smearing the still-drying blood. "You didn't!"

I looked up at him wordlessly. One of my hands reached up to brush across his jawline. In the distance, bells were tolling. Church bells? I frowned. How odd… Far away, I saw fireworks dancing in the sky. Oh… it must be midnight. The New Year. The twelve chimes that ushered in the New Year.

 _One._

L leaned over me. The devastation that flickered in those dark eyes was shattering. I knew that he'd already worked it out. He knew. "Why…" he whispered. "Why did you do it?" I felt his hands on my shoulders, and I let out a faint grin, though it contained no happiness.

 _Two._

"I had to," I rasped. I could feel a strange tingling beginning to spread through my body. I felt the same sensation as I had while fighting Kira. The sensation of something flaking away and falling to the ground beside me. A glance down confirmed my suspicion. A sand-like substance was beginning to fall away form my body, seeping through my pores.

 _Three._

L's hands clutched desperately at my shoulders, rolling me onto my back. He rested my head in his lap, fingers carding through my hair. "You shouldn't have saved me," he murmured.

"I love you." It was the instant response. "I love you, L…how could I not save you?" My eyes flickered up and across L's lifespan. The lifespan that I had just intentionally extended using the Death Note. The lifespan that represented a rule that a shinigami had broken. That _I_ had broken.

 _Four._

"You're going to die," L choked. "You extended my lifespan using the Death Note…"

"Worth it," I managed. The sandy stuff was falling off me in sheets. "You'll live." It leaked through my pores, through my mouth, nose, and eyes.

"But—!"

I silenced him with a shake of my head. "Promise me something, L."

He stared at me with large, round eyes. "Anything."

"Don't give up being a detective. No matter what, I want you to stay L."

 _Five._

He smiled, but it was a watery, distraught smile. "I can't stop being something that I've always been."

"Good." I let my eyes fall closed. I didn't want to see myself losing shape, disintegrating. "One more thing."

He nodded.

"Hold me. I want one last comfort before…before…" _Before I die._

L's eyes widened, and he moved his head in another nod. His arms crossed over my chest, pulling me closer to him so my back was flush with his chest. It was comforting, with my body pressed into him. I leaned my head back with a soft sigh, resting against his shoulder, and thought dimly that L's clothing was going to be filled with sand. Then I laughed, furious with myself for wasting my remaining time thinking about such things.

 _Six._

"Why are you laughing?" L asked softly.

"Just… this whole situation is ridiculous. I hate it."

L shifted, his expression twisting painfully. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. I love you."

"That's why we're in this mess."

"You're not going to be in it for much longer." I chanced a look down at my body, and I saw that I was lying in a pile of sand. I couldn't move anymore.

 _Seven._

"Don't say that!" L's grip on me tightened.

"Tell me, L," I requested softly, ignoring my lover's protest.

He frowned even deeper. "Tell you what?"

"…That you love me."

 _Eight._

His gaze softened. He leaned down suddenly so his face was inches from mine, his breath ghosting over my lips. "Light Yagami, I love you… so, _so_ much. _I love you._ "

I allowed my eyes to slip shut as L closed the remaining inch between us, pressing his lips softly to mine. It wasn't one of the passionate, heated kisses that we'd shared so often back before everything skidded out of control. It was gentle and caring, a kiss that was nothing more than a chaste declaration of love.

 _Nine._

L pulled back, remaining inches from me. His hair tickled my cheeks. I couldn't see him, with my eyes still sealed shut, but I thought that he was crying. A drop of moisture hit my cheek. If I still had control of my arms, I would have reached up and wiped it away. But all I could do was lie there, completely lax in L's hold, as he began to sob violently, his whole form shaking with every small movement.

 _Ten._

Darkness edged my vision. I felt as if I were being suffocated, but there was no way to alleviate the pressure building within me. I gasped for breath, but my lungs weren't working.

 _Eleven._

L heard my pitiful gasps, and his hands soothed across my chest. It was useless. I tried to open my eyes one last time to see my lover's face, but it was already far too late for that.

L was never going to know, I realized dimly. He was never going to know how much I'd suffered, how violently I'd fought to get back to him. He'd never understand what I'd been through, the extent to which the red sea had poisoned me. He was never going to understand. It would be my secret, what had happened to me while under Kira's control. And now that Beyond was dead, I was the only one who knew the truth. The only one who knew the extent of Kira's crimes. The only one who could possibly close the Kira Case. It was my burden to bear, what Kira had done to me. Mine and mine alone.

"Light…" I heard L whispering, but I couldn't respond.

He'd never know, I thought again. But perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe it would be better to leave him now, like this, completely innocent and unaware of the horrors I'd been through for him.

Maybe, just maybe…some stones were better left unturned.

 _Twelve._

I thought I heard one last whisper from L. One last declaration of his love.

Then all feeling left me, and the world faded to darkness.

 **Once again, _there are still two more chapters._ Yell at me when the story is over, not now. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter (is it even possible for someone to _enjoy_ this chapter? Geez...talk about emotional overload) and if you did, be sure to leave me a review! Preferably, a review not slaughtering me over what I just did!**


	27. The Endless Lake

**Welcome to the penultimate chapter! There's just one more after this one, and then it all ends. I'm going to tell you right now that some of you are going to be disappointed by this chapter. Some of you are going to look at what I've done and say, "Really? That's it?" But this is how I want the story to be, and if the writer so sayeth, then so it shall be. And so to those of you who will inevitably be disappointed, I apologize.**

 **To akai: I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by this chapter!**

 **To one of my lovely guests: I'm concerned about disappointing you...but still, even if it doesn't end the way you like, I'm glad you've had a decent time reading :)**

 **One last thing. This chapter is _short._ Rest assured, part two of the epilogue is longer.**

 **Chapter 27: The Endless Lake**

Light's eyes slipped closed, and L knew that he had lost consciousness. The detective's eyes fell shut, mimicking his fallen lover's state. He was sitting in a large pile of sand, Light's body barely tangible beneath his fingers.

 _What a sad ending…_

L wouldn't open his eyes. He wouldn't. Instead he let his thoughts jump to Kira, whom Light had vanquished, and Beyond, who was lying mere feet away. He thought of the task force and successors, who were still completely silent, tied to their respective trees. He thought about all he had done to get himself here, how he had fought to the last breath to protect the love of his life only to have him sprawled out dead before him. There wouldn't even be a body to bury…

Tears ran down L's face. _What a sad ending…_ he repeated mentally. _What a sad, sad, sad…_

L finally opened his eyes. He clutched at Light's body, pulling the teen up to his chest and burying his face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Light." He slipped himself out from under his lover, standing and shaking the sand from his clothing. Light lay in a pile of the stuff, his skin pale and eyes screwed shut. He looked so small… after all, he had only been a teenager.

L stooped to pick up the knife Beyond had used to cut him. He was sure that he was injured, but he barely felt the sting. Instead he trudged over to Near on unsteady legs and cut his bonds. Immediately the white-haired teen lurched forward and hugged L fiercely.

"L," he choked. "I'm so sorry…I should have listened…"

L stepped away from Near coolly, not speaking a word to him. Instead he moved to Matt, slicing away the ropes. Next came Mello.

L vaguely saw Near moving towards Light. The teen dropped to his knees beside the fallen shinigami. Matt joined him, then Mello. All three successors knelt around Light, their expressions somber. L looked away and moved to cut Soichiro's bonds. Light's father didn't move from where he stood. He just leaned back against the tree bitterly, tears running silently down his face.

"I'm sorry," L murmured. "I failed you. I didn't protect him like you asked."

Soichiro paused. Then he clasped a hand to L's shoulder. He sighed. "You did what you could. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"It's my fault."

Soichiro didn't respond. It was as good as an agreement.

L moved on and freed Matsuda and Mogi. Both men did nothing save for take a few steps towards Light. L heard a conversation going on in hushed tones behind him. He ignored them, leaning his head against the trunk of the tree Matsuda had been tied to. His eyes slipped closed. He just wanted to sleep…

There was a sudden, loud gasp behind him.

"L!" Matt cried, launching himself to his feet.

L turned to face him wearily. "What is it, Matt? I am not in the mood to converse with anyone at the moment, so—"

"L, he's breathing! Light is alive!"

L froze. No, it wasn't possible. It wasn't. Light was dead. He, a shinigami, had written someone's name down in the Death Note in order to extend the life of another. He had broken one of the rules of the shinigami, and had paid for it with his life. There wasn't even a body. He had turned completely into sand.

"L, are you listening?" Near called to him. "Didn't you hear Matt? He's alive! He has a pulse!"

There was no body. L wouldn't believe it. "Stop taunting me," he rasped. "He is dead. There is no body."

"L, you were holding his body before you cut our bonds!" Mello snapped. "He's not dead! Now get your ass over here and care for your damn boyfriend!"

L turned his head. He wouldn't hope. He wouldn't. There was no way that a shinigami could survive doing what Light had just done. He voiced that exact sentiment. "It is impossible for a shinigami to live through purposefully extending a human's life using the Death Note."

"He wasn't a full shinigami when he did it, you dolt! Remember the whole, 'bullet hitting him midway through the transformation' thing?"

A spark of hope. _No!_ L fought it back down. It was impossible… wasn't it? He slowly turned his head and began to walk forward, as if in a dream. "Light." He wasn't even aware the name had left his lips until he saw the look the successors were giving him.

As he approached, Near scooted out of the way to make room for him. L's eyes fell upon the impossible—Light's body.

His _body!_

L gasped audibly, dropping to his knees beside the scarlet-haired teen. His fingers pressed into his throat, and L was stunned to find a weak flutter of a heartbeat. He was _alive_! "He's alive?" L choked out, hardly daring to believe it. "How?"

"He still had his humanity," Near reiterated. "All that sand must be his shinigami form dissipating… look at his back! His wings are gone, and all his other shinigami aspects are gone as well!"

L ran his hands along the smooth flesh of Light's back. No wings. And that godlike glow was gone as well, most likely contained within the sand piled around the teen's body. Yes… the boy lying before him was completely, unmistakably human. Barely breathing, but human.

L looked up at the successors, a desperately hopeful look on his face. "I can't believe—I just can't—"

Near placed a hand on L's shoulder. "We need to get him back to headquarters," he instructed in a whisper. "He's barely breathing."

L nodded numbly. He hardly registered the words. All he knew was that Light was alive. Light was alive, and though he didn't know if he was going to be okay, he was _alive,_ and that was what mattered. Everything else could be worked through with time.

"I'll carry him," L announced determinedly, looping his arms beneath Light and attempting to lift him.

"Woah, woah!" Mello protested, gently removing L's arms from the teen. "You can barely walk, L. We don't need you dropping him and making his condition worse."

L blinked numbly at his successors, but he still saw reason. He released Light reluctantly and stepped aside for the task force, who had just arrived at his side. Soichiro stooped and brushed a hand across Light's forehead, brushing hair from his face. Then he scooped his son up and cradled his form to his chest, Light's body looking frail and small in his father's hold. He glanced to L and nodded shortly. "Let's go."

"But what about all the evidence here?" Matsuda protested.

Near picked up Light's Death Note, then moved and pulled Beyond's off him. Across the clearing, Mello moved to retrieve Misa's from her lax grasp. "This is all we need," Near said. "As long as we have the notebooks, everything else can wait."

L had to agree. He took a step forward, ready to move, but gasped as his legs suddenly gave out from beneath him. Oh… he was still bleeding.

"Lean on me," Near requested. He grabbed one of L's arms and looped it over his shoulders, taking the detective's weight.

L's eyes met Near's, and he saw the silent apology there. The detective gave a small smile and nodded, accepting Near's help and leaning into him. "Thank you," Near said, and L chuckled tiredly.

"It's not your fault," he whispered.

Near gave him a relieved look and began to help L move from the clearing. L's eyes sought out Light, cradled in his father's arms. Content, L allowed himself to relax as he began the long trek out of the forest and back to headquarters.

†††

Light was asleep.

He'd been asleep for almost five days now, and had fallen into a light coma. L was assured time and time again by Watari that his brain activity was still moderately high, meaning that he was likely to awaken before too long. It would just be a few more days, weeks at most. Until then, L waited beside his lover. It was a very familiar position for him—he'd waited at Light's bedside in the hospital, after getting him back from Beyond, when he was under attack from Kira—and now he waited at his bedside while he recovered from Kira's reign of terror. But this time, unlike every time before, L knew that Light was going to wake up. He knew that his eyes would open, that his breathing would increase steadily, that he would find L with his eyes and smile warmly, his lips parting as he spoke some light, loving greeting. He knew that his lover was going to be okay. There was no one left to threaten him, no one left to hurt him. When he recovered, it would be for good—for L would make sure that he was never physically harmed again.

But L had gotten sidetracked—he'd been thinking to himself of the physical condition of his lover. Said lover's physical condition was mostly unchanged. He had a few bruises and scrapes, and there were lingering traces of a light concussion, but other than that he seemed perfectly fine. His mental state was the worrying part. He'd been hooked up to an IV and a feeding tube, and various sensors covered his flesh. Monitors beeped endlessly beside him.

Two days after Light had fallen into a coma, the Shinigami King had visited L. Or rather, the King had reached across dimensions and pulled L back into his presence, back into the realm of the shinigami.

L knew he was in the shinigami realm when he found himself standing back in that garden outside Wammy's house, the little boy standing before him with a knowing smile.

"You won," the child said. "Kira is dead."

"Yes," L replied, completely unsurprised that he was in the shinigami realm. "But have you achieved your goal? Is your so-called blueprint fulfilled, or can I expect more meddling from you in the future?"

"My perfect world has not been achieved."

L's eyes widened, and he very nearly attacked the King then and there, but his next words halted him entirely.

"But the foundation has been laid, and so long as things go the way they should, you and Light will create my perfect world together. You will catch criminals, solve cases, and eventually, things will be the way they were meant to be."

And L understood. "You mean…we're meant to go out and bring into existence a perfect world? Together?"

"That is exactly what I mean, yes. I have a feeling that you will meet and go beyond my expectations. I have done what I can. I will interfere no further."

Relief. Cool and sweet, it passed through L's entire being as he realized that he'd succeeded. It was really, truly over—or at least, it would be soon. "But Light is still asleep," he protested softly. "He has fallen into a coma, and I fear for his mental state. How are we supposed to create a perfect world if he's unable to function?"

"Do not fear," the King assured him. "Light will awaken in time, and he will be able to function. I promise you this. As for his mental state… he should recover."

"What happened to him?" L asked. "His shinigami half has been purged, yes?"

The Shinigami King's smile was playful. "It has, yes. When the bullet struck Light mid-transformation, it halted him in between human and shinigami form. This confused bullet, so to speak, making it target both Kira and Light in their human and shinigami forms. It attempted to destroy _everything._ I'm sure you've already figured that much out."

L nodded.

"After that, Light fought Kira within his own mind and killed him. The instant Kira was vanquished, Light became the sole shinigami residing within his own body, and bullet reset. It recognized that there was only one persona in Light's mind, and it stopped trying to destroy him, recognizing that any attempt at erasing a shinigami's—part human or not—memories would be impossible. Unfortunately, major damage had already been done to his soul."

"His soul?" L echoed. "His _soul_ is damaged?"

"For now, yes," the King murmured thoughtfully. "Kira hurt him quite badly before he died, causing near irreparable damage to Light's essence. And the bullet eating away at him certainly didn't do him any favors." He looked up at L suddenly, a bright smile on his face. "But Light managed to kill Kira before his soul was extinguished, therefore saving himself. His soul will repair itself. He will live, although a few of his memories have sustained slight damage. I will take time for him to return to his former health, and time for him to remember what he has forgotten. Thus the coma."

"He saved himself," L whispered. "Just like he said he would, in the beginning…"

"He did. He came back to you, and saved your life by writing Beyond's name in the Death Note."

L reasoned, "And since there were still some human parts to Light, they survived, while the shinigami parts turned to sand and fell away."

"Correct."

"I thought that was impossible!"

"I thought it was as well," the King smirked. "Even _I_ wasn't sure what would happen when I watched Light write Beyond's name in the Death Note."

L had a feeling that that wasn't exactly true—the Shinigami King's so-called blueprint left no room for error. He had no doubt that the King had planned out every last detail of his plan, right down to the result of a half-shinigami's memories being extracted. But still, he pretended that he didn't know the King was lying. "Well, I'm glad it turned out the way it did. I have Light back."

The King nodded. "You do. But you still have to keep your promise to me. Destroy the Death Notes."

L looked up, alarmed. "Light will lose his memories! I can't do that to him so soon after suffering such mental trauma! It would be an insult to him to force his memories away after all he's been through to keep them!"

Sighing, the King agreed. "Yes, I know." For a moment he was silent. Then he leaned forward, an intense look on his face. "I will do you one last thing, L Lawliet. I will not use the bullet—that is to say, my crown—on Light once again. This way he will always have his memories, and will have no access to the Death Note itself." As he spoke, the King's hand rose to his crown, which was back on his head, showing no signs of ever having been a bullet.

"Thank you…" relief flooded L's system. He couldn't imagine Light's memories disappearing once again. Not after everything he'd been through.

"The destroying of the Death Note shouldn't affect you or the others, seeing as you don't have ownership," the King said. "But just in case, I will make no move to erase your memories, no matter what may happen. All of you may keep your memories until the day you die. That is all." The King turned away. "You may return to your world if you wish, Lawliet. I trust that you have all the information you sought."

"Wait!" L protested. "One more thing."

The king raised a brow. "And what is that?"

"Something Light said a long time ago…he told me that I couldn't use the Death Note, no matter what. It was as if he thought that some terrible thing would happen to me, like…like my _soul_ would be doomed, or something equally damning. I…I want to know what he meant. It feels…important, somehow."

"It is important. Increasingly so."

L raised a brow. "What makes it so important?"

"Oh…" the King trailed off, pausing to think out his response. "Well, I can tell you this—anyone who has used the Death Note can go to neither heaven nor hell."

L's heart leapt into his throat. So that was it? Light had no afterlife, and wanted to spare him from the same fate? "Where do they go?"

"They go to Mu. In other words, _nothingness._ " The King shrugged. "I suspect Light wanted to protect you from that."

"And…and can you fix it?" L requested hesitantly. "Can you save Light one last time?"

The Shinigami King's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. "No. Light has used the Death Note, and as is such, two things will now happen: Ryuk will kill him using his Death Note, and his soul will go to Mu."

"…There's nothing I can do?"

"I have already ordered Ryuk to leave Light unharmed. But unfortunately, when Light dies, his soul _will_ be taken to nothingness. But do not fret, Lawliet. All humans go to Mu, not just the ones that use the Death Note. Heaven and hell are illusions."

Despite the dark nature of such information, L felt immense relief, relief because he knew that no matter what happened, he would be with Light. The afterlife, as frightening as it seemed, would not be the thing to separate them. "Thank you," he said again. "That is all I wish to know." He paused. "This will be the last time we speak, won't it?"

The King nodded. "It will." He held out a hand to L. "I thank you for your help. This is, truly, the end of a long journey for the both of us."

"And an even longer journey for Light," L murmured, shaking the King's hand shortly. His world was beginning to darken. That could only mean one thing—the Shinigami King was sending him back to the human world.

"Oh, and Lawliet?" the King called as L's world faded around him.

The detective looked up questioningly, no longer able to answer as he made the transition from the shinigami realm to the human world.

"Don't forget to burn the piece of the Death Note in that amulet of yours."

And then L's vision faded, and he awoke in his place beside Light in the infirmary.

…That had been several days ago. Now Light's brain activity was greatly increased. He would awaken soon.

L couldn't wait for that moment.

†††

When Light finally opened his eyes, three days later, it was all L could do not to throw himself at the teen. Light's eyes blinked open and closed blearily, a fading glaze covering them. He raised a hand to his face and frowned—while the feeding tube had been removed hours prior to his awakening, he was still covered with sensors and other such things. The IV was still dripping fluids into his veins. His beautiful brown eyes looked up at the monitor displaying his vital signs, and his frown grew deeper. His brow crinkled cutely, and he poked at the IV in his left arm. He made a noise of displeasure.

And then his eyes darted up, and he found L.

For a long moment he was silent, a sort of conflicted joy in his eyes. Then he opened his mouth and spoke, his voice raspy after several days of the feeding tube jammed down his throat. "L…"

L fought his instinct to smother the boy. He reminded himself that Light was most likely confused, and still weak. His very essence, after all, had taken a beating.

The teen spoke again. "L, how long have I been out?"

"A week. You were in a light coma." L waited for Light to work things out on his own.

His expression suddenly fell. "Oh… I see. I had the strangest dream, L. I dreamed that Kira became a separate personality in my mind, and he took over and worked with someone named _Beyond_ of all things. And then you—" he broke off, looking embarrassed. A blush colored his pale cheeks. "Never mind. It was just so weird…"

L's eyes widened. "You think that our relationship was a dream?"

Light's eyes were large and innocent. L thought they very much resembled those of a doe. "Wasn't it? A dream, I mean." And he looked so very sad at that thought that L could no longer contain himself.

"Does this feel like a dream, Light?" L leaned forward and pressed his lips to his lover's. He was gentle, hands coming up to caress the sides of his face. He felt as if he were kissing glass—one wrong move, and Light would shatter. He drew away after only a moment, eyes searching Light's expression. The teen looked stunned, though there was a flicker of happiness there too.

"It was real?" he asked softly. "It was all real?" And then he seemed to realize that if their relationship was real, then so were all the other things that had happened—and just like that some invisible dam burst, and Light's expression crumpled into one of distress. "L!" he whined in a high tone, his eyes watering. "L!"

L immediately pulled the younger into a fierce hug. "I know," he whispered. "I know." Light's fingers curled into his shirt, his cheek pressed into his shoulder. Tears wetted L's shirt, but he didn't care. "It's going to be okay… I love you."

Light's choking sobs were all that answered him.

"Light… it's all over now. Kira and Beyond are dead, and everyone else is fine. You're recovering in the infirmary now."

"I-I killed—!"

 _I killed Beyond._ _I hurt you. I thought that I was never going to see you again._

L knew what he meant to say. "I don't care about any of that," he assured him. "It's all over now. All that matters is that you're safe. Understand?"

Light nodded faintly against his shoulder. "How can you love me?" he rasped. "After all this, how can you do it?"

"If I didn't love you, then I wouldn't have done so much to save you," L reasoned. "And how could I not love you? None of this is your fault."

Light keened weakly, pressing his face harder into L's shirt.

"It's all going to be okay," L repeated himself.

"Stay with me," Light begged.

L drew back to stare into those amber eyes, to look at that scarlet hair, and he realized that Light still had a ways to go before he was healed mentally. Just as the Shinigami King had said, he would need time.

But until then, L was happy to hold Light and let him cry.

†††

The next time Light awoke, L knew immediately that he felt better. His eyes weren't as glazed, his expression was less distraught, and he actually managed a small smile in his lover's direction.

"Hey," Light whispered.

"Welcome back," L greeted. He was seated in the chair beside Light's bed in the infirmary. The teen had been asleep for nearly a whole day, recovering his strength. "How are you feeling?"

Light paused. "I… I'm fine. I'm better."

"Are you really?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm getting better."

"You don't sound like it."

"Well… I'm adjusting. I thought I was dead, L. I thought that I left you behind. Waking up was a bit of a shock. But I think that I'll be okay. I just need time."

L smiled. "That's good. Because the moment you're well enough, we're going back to the clearing to burn the Death Notes."

"Why not do it here?" Light pushed himself up in bed. "There's nothing stopping you."

"Yes, well… Misa Amane and Beyond Birthday are still in that clearing. The day after they died I had Watari preserve their bodies and place them on a funeral pyre in the center of that clearing. I have been waiting for you to awaken in order to return there and set that pyre ablaze. It just seemed logical that we would burn the Death Notes there as well."

Light looked almost pleased with that. "Yes, I agree." He leaned his head back against the headboard. "You know, L, I'm glad that it's all over. I'm ready to rest for a while."

"You will," L assured him gently.

Light gave him a smile. "I think that I'll be ready to burn the notebooks quite soon."

"Good."

Light's eyelids were drooping. "Just a bit more sleep," he murmured. "Just a little bit more."

And then he was out.

†††

One week later, L and Light stood before the pyre that held the bodies of Misa Amane and Beyond Birthday. They was no longer visible among the wood, their bodies swathed in cotton like a pair of mummies. They rested side by side in the center of the clearing in which the final confrontation had taken place.

L pulled Light firmly against his side. The boy's scarlet hair was beginning to grow out, the roots showing. L had asked him countless times to dye it brown, but the teen refused. He wanted his natural hair color to grow back in, and that was the end of it.

On the other side of the pyre, Matt, Mello, and Near stood in a semicircle. Their eyes were locked on the bodies of Misa and Beyond, not even sparing a glance at the two geniuses standing across from them. Matt held a box of matches aloft, one ready to be set alight.

L's eyes met Light's. Over the past week the teen had grown considerably healthier, his skin returning to its normal luster and his cuts and bruises fading away. His mental health had greatly improved as well. He smiled more and more, and even ate voluntarily now. He carried on normal conversations with the task force and the successors. He walked around without L's support. At night, he woke up screaming less and less. Overall, things were looking up.

Said amber-eyed teen gazed up at L innocently, a bright smile on his face despite the severity of the moment. He shivered slightly due to the cold and huddled closer to L, a cute flush coloring his cheeks due to the chill. "Cold…" he murmured.

L chuckled. Of course he was cold… it was nearly midnight, and they were in the middle of the forest! But this time the moon was in the sky, making the whole clearing much lighter than it had been the first time. It was actually quite beautiful. Or… it would have been, if not for the pyre.

"Are you ready?" Light murmured, his smile fading. He shifted slightly, and a moment later he held up a black notebook. His thick coat swished with each movement, the puffy hood pulled up around his face. His free hand was shoved in his pocket.

L rummaged around in his own coat and produced the second Death Note. "I'm more than ready," he said. His eyes shot across the clearing, and he located Near, who was holding the third and final Death Note in the human world.

Near…he was another aspect of Light's life that had changed for the better. His mental health had improved greatly. In the beginning all he'd done was beg L's forgiveness…but after a short while of L reassuring him that it was not, in fact, his fault, the white-haired teen seemed to come to his senses. It didn't take long until he was back to his normal, although slightly more apologetic, self. He had even spoken with Light a few times. They'd played a game of chess, this time for the sake of fun rather than symbolism. Light seemed more than willing to forgive him after that.

L nodded to Matt wordlessly. The brown-haired boy dipped his head in agreement and moved forward, the matches clutched between shivering fingers. He struck one of the implements against the side of the box, sparking a tiny flame. His hand moved forward, and the flame immediately spread to the shreds of paper packed beneath the wood. Matt dropped the match into the paper and moved back to Mello, wrapping an arm around his waist.

The flames shot high into the sky, coloring the night with deep lines of orange and gold. The heat washed over the beings surrounding the pyre, soothing away their shivering and lending them relief from the cold.

L glanced to Light and saw him watching the fire through nervous eyes. Looking back to the flames, L understood why. The flames were beginning to lick at the form of Misa Amane. She wasn't visible beneath the cloth that engulfed her, but it was more than easy to tell where she was as the flames began to nibble at her body. The fire washed over her form completely within moments, eating the white cloth and the flesh beneath, charring once-golden hair. Beyond was next, vanishing beneath a sheet of golden flames. L looked back at Light just as the teen buried his face in the cloth of his lover's coat. The detective ran soothing fingers through his scarlet hair, but not a word left his lips. This was not a time for speaking.

Near suddenly moved forward. He stood at the edge of the pyre and looked up through the flickering flames at L, holding the Death Note aloft. Without waiting for permission, the successor dropped the book into the flames. The notebook struck the burning wood with a dull thud, and immediately the flames lurched to seize it. The pages were devoured hungrily, eaten by the starving licks of flame. Bits of charred paper fluttered away from the fire on a gentle breeze, spiraling up into the sky.

L spared one last glance at Light, then moved forward with the second Death Note in hand. He could feel the teen's intense gaze on him, watching intently as he approached the flames.

L stopped at the foot of the pyre. He held up the Death Note, just as Near had done, and let it fall into the fire. Just as the first time, the flames snatched the notebook immediately, devouring it in moments. Bits of paper and ash spat outwards. The detective moved backwards in a few steps and turned to Light.

The teen looked at him uneasily, but nodded nonetheless. He clutched his Death Note, his original notebook, between his fingers and moved forward. He stood beside the fire in moments, the notebook held out over the flames but not dropping. For a moment the teen ran his fingers over the cover, riffled through the pages. Then he took a deep breath. "I am sorry," he said, his voice echoing softly over the sound of the crackling flames. "I regret each and every life I took. But now it can never happen again." And then, just like that, the final Death Note fell to the flames and was swallowed up. Light stumbled backwards, and L was swift to pull him close.

It was a long few minutes that passed as the successors, L, and Light stared at the flames as they finished destroying the last remnants of Kira's empire. But after those few minutes, Matt and Mello turned away and began to walk back the way they'd came, towards the car they'd driven there in. A few minutes later Near followed them, shooting a sad glance at L and Light.

L and Light were alone.

For a long time they just stood there together, standing impossibly close, watching the flames. After all this time… it was hard to believe that it was over. They had won. Kira and Beyond were dead, and Light was alive—and human.

"It's over," Light whispered in his ear. L didn't respond. He had nothing to say. And he continued his silence, even when Light pulled away and began to trudge back out of the forest. The detective remained standing beside the pyre. And once Light was out of earshot, he began to speak.

"I have kept my promise to you, Shinigami King." L approached the flames once more, unclasping his amulet from around his neck. He studied the thing, running his fingers over the metallic surface, touching the clasp lightly. He hadn't told anyone about the page of the Death Note hidden inside. Not even Light knew what Rem had given him, what her small act of betrayal had been. He'd sworn to Light, long, long ago, that he would never use the Death Note, no matter what. It was the only thing that had kept him from killing Beyond. And now, after so much time, he finally knew why. He knew that any human who used the notebook would to go Mu—but he also knew that _all_ humans went to Mu, and therefore using the notebook had no consequence in terms of the afterlife. It seemed rather depressing, actually, now that it was all over. If L had just known from the very beginning that his promise to Light was based of an irrelevancy, he could have killed Beyond, and the outcome of Kira's little game would have been quite different. But he hadn't known, and it was due to that that things had spun so far out of control. Or maybe not—maybe, no matter what he did, the outcome would have been the same. Wasn't the idea of the King's so-called blueprint? To achieve the same outcome, no matter the path?

He supposed that it didn't matter now. L popped open the locket and stared inside with dark, dismal eyes. The first thing he saw was a shock of white paper. The page of the Death Note, no doubt. L removed the page gingerly and turned his gaze beyond. Ah, yes, there it was—and of _course_ it was there, because he'd specifically put it there before he came to the forest. L's fingers closed on the second scrap of paper folded up within the amulet, withdrawing it and unfolding it to full size, which wasn't much larger than the palm of his hand. He stared down at it sadly, realizing the weight of the piece of paper, the scrap of material he'd tucked into the amulet alongside the Death Note page.

A newspaper clipping, with the name and face of a criminal.

"What's the phrase?" L murmured aloud, still addressing the nonexistent Shinigami King. "Oh, how the tables have turned? Is that it?" His fingers grasped a needle, carefully slotted into the bottom of the amulet. He raised it to his finger and pricked lightly, watching with morbid fascination as blood bubbled to the surface delicately. He positioned the bloodied needle over the page of the Death Note, eyes locked on the scrap of newspaper. But then, just as he was about to begin writing, he paused, feeling as though something were watching him at the edge of the clearing. "You'll have to forgive me," he called out, taking confidence in the fact that Light was no doubt out of earshot. "I know you told me that all humans go to Mu, but…you understand that I can't exactly take your word for it. If I do this, then there will be no doubt. Light and I will be together for all eternity."

The movement at the edge of the clearing made no response, and L didn't expect it to. For all he knew, it wasn't the Shinigami King. It could just be a wild animal, fleeing the fire. But he felt, deep within his heart, that the King was watching. And so he returned the needle to the paper, forming the first letter of the criminal's name. A moment later the second joined the first, then the third, the fourth, the fifth… And finally, after what felt like forever…it was done. That final name stared up at L sadly, as if telling him that it knew just how much he was sacrificing in writing it down. For, L knew, he could never tell Light what had occurred here this night. He could never know that L had broken his promise and used the Death Note. This would be L's secret to bear, and he would bear it to the grave. With that thought echoing in his mind, L grasped the paper in both hands, his blood still drying on the pages, and moved towards the inferno. He held the paper over the all-consuming flickers of light, eyes dancing with reflected licks of flame.

"That was the last name," L told the King, forcing the tremor out of his voice. "That was the last _life_ that will ever be claimed by this Death Note. By _any_ of the three Death Notes that found their way into the human world and into our hands. With this, it is over—it is the end. Now our journey will truly come to an end."

And then, eyes locked on the flames, L released the final page of the Death Note, and let it fall to its destruction. The piece of notebook paper was swallowed by the inferno immediately. The last remnant of the Death Note was gone. A moment later the shell of the amulet joined it, vanishing the moment it hit the flames, as if the King had reclaimed his property. L turned his face skywards at the sight, closing his eyes. L stood there for another few moments. Then he took a step back. Then another, still facing the flames. And as he moved, he thought he saw Ryuk, standing at the edge of the clearing and cackling. But the shinigami was gone so fast, darting into the sky, that he couldn't be sure.

L continued to step back.

One step, Light.

Two steps, Kira.

Three steps, Beyond.

Four steps, the King.

Five steps, Rem.

Six steps, Misa.

Seven steps. The Death Note.

Eight steps, and he was standing parallel to the trees surrounding the clearing. L took one last moment, one last heartbeat to stare at those flames as they slowly began to die down. He bowed his head. "Goodbye, Kira. Goodbye, Beyond."

And then, the wind at his back, L turned around and headed for the edge of the forest.

Light, he knew, would be waiting.

 ** _There is one more chapter._** **And said last chapter will contain a "Seven Year Later" segment as well as one last lemon, so be sure to stick around for that.**

 **Kudos to anyone who put two and two together with regard to "the wind at his back" being used to describe Matt's intuition in finding the Teito Hotel as well as L's final trek from the forest. In case you didn't get it, I was totally hinting at the Shinigami King using the wind as a directional tool.**

 **One more thing. That scene where the notebooks are burned? When I started this story, over a year ago, that scene was the only thing I _knew_ was going to happen. From the moment the first word hit the page until the moment that scene played out, I knew what was going to happen. Thus the story's name. _Burn,_ in honor of the scene that made me want to write this in the first place.**

 **Sorry for the long AN, but I had so much to say about this! As always, please leave me a review, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	28. Fading Echoes

**Welcome to the twenty-eighth and final chapter of Burn! I knew that some of you were going to be sad that I didn't kill Light off, but I hope that my decision didn't ruined the story's ending for you. I totally get where you're coming from; I'm a sucker for a sad ending as well; but in this case, I felt like this story needed to have a happy ending. Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for my next story to have a sad ending, if I so choose.**

 **But anyways, thanks if you reviewed, and I hope that you enjoy the conclusion of Burn.**

 **Chapter 28: Fading Echoes**

The instant we were back in our room at headquarters, L had me pinned against the wall. His lips met mine with a fervor I had tasted only once before, his tongue darting out to lap at mine, dominating and sampling the interior of my mouth. One of his hands snaked up and grabbed a handful of my hair, forcefully tilting my head back against the wall to grant him better access. I gladly parted my lips, bringing both arms up to drape around his shoulders. A soft moan left me as the detective palmed me through my slacks, his movements hasty and desperate. As his grip on my hair tightened, his tongue forced itself deeper, his breathy pants and groans met my ears, I pulled him ever closer. I used my grip to tell him that he wasn't alone, that I was safe, that I was recovering. And he must have gotten the message, for his lips left mine to curve in a smile against my throat, nipping and sucking all the while.

"Lawliet!" I gasped, his real name leaving my lips without a second thought. "Lawliet, please…"

L's lips curled up against my flesh, and he whispered in a low tone, "Eager, aren't we?"

"Hmm…" I trailed off, pulling his lips back to mine, moaning softly as his tongue drug across mine, twisted to lap at every available inch of flesh. A moment later he began moving his tongue back and forth, mimicking a much more lewd, _much_ more intimate action that we would soon be engaged in.

He broke away with a wet, vulgar sound, murmuring, "I'm surprised…" He pressed another kiss to my lips, drawing forth a soft whimper fro me. "…that you're willing to give up control again after so long without it."

For a moment I was confused. But then I realized that he was referring to Kira, and I barely suppressed a shudder. "It's okay," I insisted in a murmur.

"Hmm?" L inquired ineloquently, and I noticed that he'd stopped kissing me, stopped pressing his lips to my flesh, in favor of stroking his hands across my chest, running his fingertips along my neck, brushing over my cheeks and lips.

"It's _you,"_ I breathed in explanation, leaning into his touch. "It's not like before—I can give control to you, and you won't…won't _abuse_ me."

L shivered at the statement, but it was a pleasant shiver—and the next moment his lips were back on mine, as if he'd been waiting for my explanation before going further. I bared my neck to his searching lips and the man responded with a low growl of approval, choosing a spot on my throat and biting deeply, blood beading to the surface before he soothed over it with an apologetic lick. He hummed against my skin as he repeated the action with another section of flesh, then another, and another until my throat was riddled with bites. The whole time I clenched my fingers in his loose shirt, head thrown back, moaning shamelessly. It had been far too long, I thought, since I had been with him.

"You're mine…" L growled lovingly, fingers pulling eagerly at the buttons of my shirt. I felt a series of soft tugs as each button was popped away, then a cool trail of saliva as L trailed his tongue over each new patch of skin as it was revealed to the air. "You're mine…"

"Yours!" I agreed in a gasp. "Yours, Lawliet…"

The last button was torn away impatiently, and my dress shirt was immediately pulled from my body and tossed away. L's mouth instantly latched over a nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at the bud. I moaned as his other hand shot up to pinch and roll the opposite bud between his fingers. My knees weakened. I struggled to maintain my position, but it only took a few harsh sucks before I slipped to the carpeted ground, L dropping beside me without releasing his hold.

L's mouth was removed for only a heartbeat before he began trailing soft kisses and licks down my stomach, dipping his tongue into my navel briefly. His cool fingers followed his mouth, making my whole form shudder as he pressed lightly on my lower stomach. Then L's delicate fingers found my obvious arousal, and he grinned up at me toothily.

"Are you enjoying this, Light?" he purred.

I felt my cheeks flush even darker as I murmured, "I'd say that's quite obvious, L."

The detective undid my belt with swift fingers and cast the thing aside, hands returning immediately to pop the button of my pants. His breath tickled my stomach as he lowered the zipper slowly, each click of the metallic teeth echoing in my ears. My pants were yanked off in one swift movement, revealing silky black boxers.

I was suddenly very aware of our unequal states of dress. "L, your clothing," I protested breathily, hands reaching down to tug at his shirt. "I want to see you." The detective paused his movements, staring up at me calculatedly. Then his hands went to the hem of his shirt, and the white garment was suddenly out of sight.

I reached both hands up and ran my palms over his chest. His pale flesh was hot to the touch, and slightly damp with a layer of sweat. My fingers explored his pallid skin, taking note of what made him squirm, what made him gasp. I raked my nails lightly over his neck before grabbing either side of his face and dragging him down for another kiss.

A sudden moan was torn from my throat as I felt L grip me through my boxers. He smiled into our kiss, massaging the bulge that only grew larger with every movement. His palm ground into me. I arched my hips into that hot touch, writhing and moaning endlessly. L chuckled softly.

"Impatient?"

I didn't respond, for L's fingers had just slipped beneath the hem of my boxers and were taking my member in hand, stroking teasingly along its length. His thumb rubbed along the head lightly.

"Oh…!" I panted. "L, more!"

A playful smirk accompanied his movements as he gripped me with firm fingers and began pumping with delicious force. His hand became damp with precum, aiding his passionate movements.

My fingers twisted in the carpet. I thought briefly that we should move to the bed, but all rational thought cleared as L's free hand yanked my boxers off, exposing me completely to the cool air.

"L…" I moaned. "I need _more._ I need you!"

L's hand tightened its grip, and his wrist twisted just a bit as he continued to stroke me—but a moment later that hand ceased its movements, provoking an unhappy groan. Then L grinned toothily and dipped his head downwards. I frowned, about to ask what he was up to, when I felt a warm heat engulf just the head of my cock. "Oh!" I cried out. "Yes! Lawliet…"

L hummed around me, his lips sinking lower and lower until he engulfed me completely, relaxing the muscles of his throat to draw me in further. I felt his tongue swirl playfully around my length, his lips press firmly against the pulsating flesh. My eyes flitted down to watch him, his cheeks hollowed, eyes half-lidded and glazed with lust. He gave a particularly hard suck, and my hips lurched upwards against my will. The detective clamped down on my hips in response and began to bob his head faster. I let out a breathy moan as I felt the head of my cock striking the back of his throat with every downward motion. His lips were tightening even further around me, those deep, insistent sucks were growing more and more intense, and his tongue was performing impossibly talented maneuvers, drawing me closer and closer to release with every moment. There was a fiery heat building in my abdomen, pooling and growing stronger with every motion L made, and it was only growing more and more intense.

"I'm g-going to—!" I warned the older man.

He didn't respond, simply sucked fiercely and hummed, sinking his mouth down as far as he could and staying there—and that added pleasure, that slight vibration around my arousal, brought me over the edge. I nearly screamed as I released, L's mouth milking me dry. He swallowed with a soft moan, tongue darting out to clean his lips as he sat up.

For a single moment we gazed at each other silently, my chest heaving in an effort to regain my breath, and his chest heaving as well, but in anticipation. Then he reached out slowly, giving me plenty of time to back out, and pulled me up. My legs were shaking as he pushed me back onto the bed. I hit the mattress with a huff, eyes seeking out my lover. He stood at the bedside, fingers unbuckling his belt and letting his jeans fall to the ground. His boxers joined them soon after, and I found slight amusement in the fact that today, at least, he hadn't gone without them. His cock sprang free, its impressive length sparking anticipation in me that I hadn't felt in months.

The detective was on me a moment later, lips crashing to mine, his mouth tasting salty and warm. He hummed his impatience into my mouth, one hand reaching to the bedside table to rummage through the top drawer. Without breaking our kiss he popped open the container of lube, squirting some onto three fingers. The next moment I felt one of those slickened digits at my entrance, gently pushing inside. I let out a soft groan as L began to work his finger back and forth, each time pushing a little deeper and opening me further to his touch. A dull burn spread through me, but it gave way to pleasure within minutes. Before long I felt a second finger join the first, then a third, scissoring inside me and seeking out the one spot that would make me scream in pleasure. It was all moving so fast—but it was okay, because I wanted this, and I knew that he wanted it too.

I jolted suddenly as an intense feeling of pleasure washed through me. "Mph!" I gasped. "L, right there, do that again!"

"As my Light wishes…" came the response, and I felt L's fingers sooth over my prostate once again, manipulating it with almost painful precision. He hit it once again, then again, and I felt stirrings of pleasure shooting straight to my ever-building arousal.

L pulled his fingers from me, and the wet, lewd noises I heard told me that he was applying lube to himself now. "Light, turn over," he whispered hotly, one hand tugging on my hip.

My teeth closed on my lip in anticipation as I obeyed the command, rolling onto my stomach. L's hands closed on my hips and pulled them towards him, dragging me onto my knees and elbows. I shot a look over my shoulder at him, and the look he gave me was quite possibly the most arousing thing I had ever seen. He leaned forward just enough to kiss the back of my neck, and I felt something much larger than three fingers prod at my entrance. His teeth latched onto the flesh of my shoulder momentarily, lapping at the bite mark as he drew away. He almost seemed to be stalling, and I longed desperately for him to continue…

"Do it," I instructed in a low groan. "Do it, Lawliet, please…"

"Begging, Light?" he asked, amused. "Have you fully submitted to me at last?"

I wanted to snap at him, to tell him that I had submitted to him long ago, to tell him to _get on with it,_ but he moved before I could speak.

I yelped as L pushed in swiftly, sheathing himself fully within me in one sharp thrust. A piercing pain shot through me, enough to make me cry out again and writhe weakly in L's grasp. The detective littered light kisses down my back in apology and held still, waiting for me to give the signal to continue. I kept silent for a long few moments, waiting for the burn to go away. And in a few moments it did, the pain mingling with pleasure. It stung, yes, but I'd been through so much worse in the past few months that it paled in comparison. "Move," I instructed breathily, and the detective needed no further incentive. He pulled almost completely out, pausing in case I protested, then slammed in harshly. My body shifted on the bed, and I let out a loud moan.

L took it as motivation. He rocked his hips once again, soaking up the little noises that escaped my throat. He set a steady pace, cock pumping in and out, his angle changing slightly with every thrust as if he were searching for something.

" _L!"_ I screamed. The man smirked against my shoulder, thrusting at that same angle and striking my prostate dead on. It took him a few more thrusts to pinpoint it, but after that every roll of his hips snapped directly into it, sending blinding pleasure throughout my body. "Faster!" I cried out.

L was only too happy to oblige, his hand snaking around to pump my fully erect member in time with his thrusts. His rhythm faltered now, and I could feel his breathy pants against my back as he began to lose control. "Light," he groaned, pace increasing until I thought I was going to split in two. There was an unbearable heat pooling in my stomach, and it was beginning to build higher and higher. And then, just as I was about to warn L of my impending release, he stopped.

For just a moment I thought he was going to tease me, make me beg—but then I felt him pull out entirely, and the next heartbeat there was a hand on my shoulder, tugging me in an attempt to get me to roll onto my back.

"L?" I whined. "Come on, don't tease…"

"Not teasing," he insisted, tugging impatiently. "On your back, Light…please…"

I heard the desperation in his voice, and with a slight flicker of confusion, I rolled onto my back. What I saw was stunning, and the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

L…his cheeks were flushed beautifully, a faint red tint painted across the normally pale skin. His lips, slightly swollen from the unfamiliar action of kissing, were parted just slightly, releasing a series of deep, heavy breaths. And his eyes…his eyes were dark and half-lidded, and glazed thickly with lust. He was stunning. _Beautiful._ And most importantly, he was _mine_ —and I was his.

"Light…" he breathed, and I realized he was waiting for my assent to push in. I nodded wordlessly, and his hands were immediately at my legs, tugging them up and over his shoulders. My hands flew to the blankets below me as he entered me deeply, fingers twisting to stop him from pushing me back. "Mmm…" I moaned, pressing forwards as he paused for just a moment. For a heartbeat I was confused—this position restricted movement greatly, and was no doubt far less convenient for L—but then he thrust once, slowly, and I understood.

It was _intimate._ This position, the way he lovingly thrust in and out at a deliciously even, controlled pace, was completely, undeniably _intimate._ It turned the act of having sex into making love, turned lust into a deep, passionate sort of affection. L was telling me, with every roll of his hips, every soft, lingering touch of his fingertips to my skin, that he loved me. That I was his one and only, and that no matter what, he would never let me go. And then he was _saying_ those things, whispering against my flesh as he thrust in and out, brushed across my skin with soft, innocent caresses. His pace, preciously harsh and violent, had slowed drastically, but was just as good, just as arousing.

"L…" I found myself whimpering, raising my hips to meet his. "L, please…"

And despite my soft begging he continued to move at that slow, loving pace, continued to touch me in that seemingly innocent way, continued to murmur those endearing things. He thrust in, deeply, and I moaned, my entire body becoming unbearably hot. And perhaps, I thought dimly, this pace was _better_ , better because I could feel with every small movement the love radiating from the skin of the one I'd given myself to, better because it was just _so good,_ and I could feel _everything._ And then, the next moment, L's hands were clamping down on my hips, and I felt the exact moment when his pace faltered just a little bit, when he allowed himself to lose control. But even as his pace quickened as he strained towards his release, even as I felt a shudder racking his form, his touch was still soft and loving, his movements inside me precise and meaningful. His hips snapped to mine faster, and as his whole body shook he leaned forward, clamping his teeth lightly to my neck, whimpering, "Light…"

"It's okay," I gasped in response, pressing against him, moaning as my movements allowed him to reach just a _little bit deeper_. "Release inside me…"

The words sent L over the edge. He snapped his hips forward one last time, his whole body pressed flush against mine, and I felt his cock jerk within me. A gush of fluid coated my insides, and I let out a low groan as the feeling sent a shiver up my spine. For just a moment L laid against me, his flesh pressed to mine, chest heaving. And then, the next moment, he was dipping his head lower, and for the second time that night I felt his lips close around me. I let out a loud moan, not having realized just how painfully aroused I really was. I barely felt what he was doing, and I felt _everything_ he was doing—the slow, languid lapping of his tongue against heated flesh, the deep, insistent sucks, the deliberate way he allowed the head of my cock to brush the back of his throat. It was good, unbelievably so—and just when I thought I'd reached my limit, I felt something prodding at my stretched entrance, and the next moment three fingers were plunging deep within me, finding my sweet spot and pressing against it torturously.

"Ahh!" I gasped out, bucking my hips, whimpering when his hand held me down firmly. His fingers plunged in and out of me, stretching what needn't be stretched any further, making me moan shamelessly with every brush of his fingertips against that one, blindingly pleasurable spot. The suction of L's mouth increased as he thrust his fingers back in, and that pool of heat built up painfully in my stomach. And then he let out a soft groan, and the slight vibration combined with the thrusting of his fingers against my prostate, and the way he sucked me deep into his throat, was enough to make me moan, "L, I'm…"

He understood, and the next moment his mouth was gone, replaced with his unoccupied hand. He pumped me with long, tight movements, and it only took a few strokes, a few twists of his wrists, a few thrusts of his fingers, to send me over the edge for the second time that night. I came with a loud moan, coating his hand with my release, the fluid spurting beneath L's fingers and dripping onto the bed sheets.

L let out a low groan, pulling his fingers out of me and letting out a deep, exhausted sigh, collapsing on top of me with a huff. For a long moment I allowed it, for I was too exhausted and complacent to complain. But then I felt the uncomfortable feeling of my release cooling between our stomachs, and I murmured, "Lawliet, move… I need to clean up."

The detective groaned once more in response, still unmoving. "Not done yet…" he muttered. "…Got to outdo Beyond."

I frowned, the words not making sense to my pleasure-clouded brain. "Outdo him? What do you mean?"

I felt L's fingers moving carelessly over my flesh. "We've only had sex twice… that's not nearly as many times as you've done it with Beyond."

I laughed groggily. "So it's a competition now, is it?"

"It is," came the response. "And I intend to _win…"_ he trailed off, and I felt the muscles of his jaw move in a yawn. "So cleaning up won't do any good…"

Another laugh left me, and I whispered, "Well, unlike Beyond, you have the rest of our lives to have sex with me. I'd hate for you to blow it all in one night."

L's breath ghosted across my chest steadily. There was no response. He'd fallen asleep. Momentarily I was annoyed, wincing at the uncomfortable position I had been left in. But with L's form pressing so warmly into my front, his fingers drifting unconsciously through my hair, and his lips brushing my flesh every time he inhaled, it was hard to stay angry for too long.

So with a smile on my face, I closed my eyes and let L sleep. After all, he needed it whenever he could get it.

†††

When I awoke, I was lying on my back, eyes locked onto the ceiling. I frowned, contemplating my change in position. The last thing I remembered I had fallen asleep with L stretched out over my chest, my front dirtied from our… _activities._ I reached out a hand and brushed it across my stomach. I was completely clean. Although, I noted, I was still naked.

My head turned to seek out my lover. Sure enough, he was lying beside me, gazing up at the ceiling thoughtlessly, no doubt waiting for me to awaken.

"L," I murmured, reaching out a hand and caressing the flesh of his bare shoulder. The man started, surprised, looking over at me.

"Light," he responded softly. "Did you sleep well, love?"

I nodded, stretching my arms over my head and crossing them to use as a pillow.

L's gaze flitted over my body, barely concealed beneath the thin bed sheet. "I took the liberty of cleaning you up after our little bout of fun last night. I felt quite ashamed of leaving you in such an uncomfortable position. I apologize."

The old me would have felt offended, but there was no flutter of anger in my heart. Only a lull of happiness. "It's okay," I answered honestly. "I'm sure you'll make it up to me later."

"Yes…" L trailed off. His expression grew almost troubled.

"L, what is it? What's wrong?"

He avoided my gaze. "While you were asleep, I did some serious thinking, Light, and there are things that we must discuss."

A flicker of trepidation shot through me. What was he talking about? "What is it?" I asked nervously.

"Regarding our living arrangements…"

"Oh," I responded uneasily. "Of course."

L turned his head to look at me, but he remained lying on his back. "I…I suppose that now things have died down, you'll want to go back to college and finish your studies? You want to join the NPA, do you not?"

"Oh…yeah, I suppose that's what I wanted, isn't it?"

L raised a brow. "Wanted?"

I raised a hand to massage my temples. What did I want? Well, that was easy—I wanted L. But what _else_ did I want? What career? Where did I want to live? Now that everything was over, there were things that were going to have to be decided. For the first time in months I was reminded of my initial fear that L's work would make him leave me. For just a moment I felt that fear again, stronger than ever, but then I paused—he wouldn't leave me, not after so much work to get me back. He loved me, of that I was sure. "L…" I murmured after a long pause. "What do you want?"

He blinked, clearly surprised. "Pardon?"

"What do you want?" I repeated. "Where do you want to live, and what do you want from me?"

He seemed even more surprised as he said, "I want to live wherever you do. And I just want _you,_ Light. Nothing more, nothing less."

Except, I could tell he was lying. "Do you want to stay in Japan?" I questioned.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I want to stay wherever you are."

"L…"

He looked up the ceiling abruptly. "I suppose…if you didn't mind…"

"L…" I repeated. I rolled onto my side, reaching out and caressing the side of his face gently. "Please, L. Tell me what you want. We're not going to get anywhere if we dance around it—no matter what it is, no matter how crazy, it sounds, I want to know what you desire. Then, maybe, we can deicide where to go from there."

"I can't," came the soft response. "You might get scared and leave…"

Now _I_ was the one brimming with surprise. "You think _I'll_ leave?" I echoed. "L, I swear to you, I'm not going anywhere. I _love_ you. I'd do anything to stay with you."

He looked to me hopefully. "You really won't mind…?"

"Tell me. Please."

He looked terrified. But still, wincing perpetually, he nodded. "Light…" he began softly. "I've had a lot of time to think about what I want when you were still comatose. And after so much thinking…I've come to a decision."

My heart lurched. What was he going to say? Was this it? Once again I found myself grappling with the fear that he intended to leave me… after all, he was _L,_ and he had other cases to attend to now that I was healed and the Kira case was over. I felt a terrible fear pierce my heart. "What is it?" I barely managed to ask.

L suddenly propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over me, his gray eyes gazing deeply into mine. For a long moment we stared into each other's eyes, his filled with some unreadable emotion, mine filled with trepidation. I hoped dearly that he wasn't about to leave me, wasn't about to tell me that he had to return to his duties as L…

"Marry me."

I choked, darting up in bed and nearly smacking L in the face with my forehead. " _What?"_ Disbelief filled my chest.

"Marry me," L repeated, a goofy grin on his face that I'd never seen before.

My jaw dropped. "B-but that's illegal here!" I spluttered. "You can't just—!"

"It's not illegal in America," L smirked. "And I'm sure I could find a case or two to work on over there as an excuse."

I gawked at the man. "You want me to come with you to America?"

"Light Yagami…" He reached over, taking my hands in his. "You said you wanted to know what I wanted, so I will tell you. I want you to abandon your studies at To-Oh, give up on the NPA, say goodbye to your family, and leave Japan with me. I want you to come with me not just to America, but _everywhere._ I want you to be my accomplice. I want you to solve my cases with me. I want to wake up in the morning and see you lying beside me, and I want to know that you'll never be inclined to leave, no matter what. I want _you,_ Light. I want to be with you."

I could barely force my lips to move. "Do you… really mean that? Do you really want me to travel the world with you? Do you want me to…leave Japan?"

The grin on L's face was nothing short of childish, despite his obvious nervousness. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it."

"Oh god, L…" I whispered, struggling to process it all. "Give up on To-Oh, on the NPA, leave Japan, leave my _family…_ "

He dipped his head slightly, and I could practically feel the disappointment beginning to radiate off him as he no doubt assumed that I was about to refuse. "It's okay if you say no," he assured softly. "If you want to stay here, then I'll be with you, no matter what. But you asked what I wanted, and so I told you."

My answer was already bubbling in my throat, and I longed to tell L just what I thought of his request—but I forced myself, just for a moment, to consider what I was about to do. If I said yes to what he was asking, then I would very rarely see my family. I would have to drop out of To-Oh, and I would never fulfill my dream of joining the NPA. I would be never be able to stay in one place for too long—I'd have to move around in order to protect L's identity. There would be endless danger as well, I knew. There wasn't a single moment in which L's life wasn't at risk during a case. If I went with him now, then my life would also be put in constant danger.

So…was that what I wanted?

"L…" I whispered, reaching up and hooking one arm around his neck. He stared down at me through nervous eyes, his fingers twisting in the blankets beside my head. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life."

"In that case…" I pulled him towards me, stopping when our lips were just barely brushing. "My answer is _yes_."

Silence. Immediate and thick, it draped across us like a blanket, shrouding us completely.

"You…you're serious?" he whispered, eyes wide. "You'll leave Japan with me? You'll give up on your _dream?_ "

"My dream is working with you," I responded in a hushed tone. And it was true. Somewhere along the way, I'd forgotten the NPA, and turned my sights on L.

His expression twisted, the trepidation slowly melting away, happiness and disbelief overtaking him. "And…what of my one condition?"

I frowned. "What condition?"

He blushed. He _blushed._ "I already told you, Light…I want you to marry me."

My heart fluttered in my chest. I laughed. "I can't believe you, L," I grinned. "After all this, you propose to me with two words…and you have the nerve to call it a _condition?_ "

He suddenly looked worried. "Did I do it wrong? I don't have much experience…"

"No, no!" I laughed. I pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Just as I felt his tongue beginning to lap at my bottom lip, I pulled away and rested my forehead against his. "You've done nothing wrong. You are the most hopeless person I have ever met, and I love you."

"So… you'll marry me?"

"Yes, of course I'll marry you!"

The smile was back on L's face in a heartbeat, and his lips were on mine, tongue thrusting past my lips fervently.

I smiled into the kiss, relaxing beneath L's hold. Then the detective pulled back for a moment, and I took the opportunity to speak. "I want to add one condition of my own," I requested.

He nodded senselessly. "Anything."

"I want you to assign me a letter."

He jerked back sharply, surprised. "That's…unexpected."

I supposed that it was. I hadn't thought too hard about it previously—but now the idea sprung to the forefront of my mind, and I knew that if I didn't say something now, I would regret it forever. "I know…" I murmured, hoping he wouldn't refuse.

"If you're worried about me taking credit for your work, then you don't have to be concerned…we can just tell the public that a second L has entered the picture, and that we're working together."

"No, that's not it," I responded softly. "It's not because of my pride."

"Then why? Why do you want to be one of the letters?"

It was a bit difficult to explain, actually. "Just…I just do, L. Please let me do this. If I'm going to work beside you, then I want to have a letter."

He was clearly confused, but still, he relented. "Very well…if that is what you wish, then I will not protest. You will be Y, I presume?"

I hesitated. "No…actually, I was hoping, if you didn't mind…to be K."

He froze, and I could see the suspicion flaring to life in his eyes. "K?" he demanded harshly. "As in, _Kira?"_

"…Yes. That is what I want."

"Light, why?" he hissed, and I could see his anger growing. "Why do you want to be reminded of what you once were every time the public addresses you? What will the government agencies of the world think when L suddenly begins working with someone who calls himself _K,_ right after Kira mysteriously vanishes? They'll think that you're Kira!"

"I _was_ Kira," I murmured. I wasn't sure if I could make L understand just why I was doing this, but I had to try. "A long time ago, before this all started, _I_ was Kira. And Kira…he wanted to rid this world of evil. He went about it the wrong way, and ended up evil himself—but in the beginning, even if it was only for a moment, he thought that he could use his power to make the world a better place."

"It doesn't matter," L growled. "You're not Kira anymore, and I won't allow you to act like him. You will _not_ be K."

"L…" I begged. "I _need_ this. I need to do this. I need to show the world that K can be something other than a murderer. I need to redeem myself, and if I take the name K and help rid the world of criminals the _right_ way, then…then I think that I can do it. I think that I can make Kira what he was supposed to be, originally."

And just like that, I knew that he understood. "Oh, Light…" he whispered, anger melting away. "You don't have to redeem yourself. You've already proven yourself worthy of working beside me, again and again, and no one will ever think any less of you for having been Kira all that time ago, not after everything you've went through. You don't have to become K in order to redeem yourself."

"I need it," I insisted. "I need it, L. I need you to let me do this."

He looked sad, and very tired. "Light, you have to understand. If you do this, if you become K and reveal your existence to the world…they'll think that you're Kira. They may not know for certain, but they will not be swift to trust you. There will be rumors, horrible, despicable rumors about your involvement with me, and you'll never escape them, no matter how many years may pass. There will always be someone, somewhere, who remembers the time when Kira disappeared, and the mysterious man known as K emerged from the shadows. They will hate you, and they will never, _never_ trust you. Do you understand that?"

I nodded. "Yes, I understand. But I want it. I want to take the name K, because if I do, I can prove to myself that I had good intentions when I first found the notebook. Even if it lasted for a mere moment, I still had good intentions…and I need to _prove it._ "

"And…are you sure that this is what you want?"

"Yes. I've never been more certain about anything in my entire life." I echoed L's earlier words, and the expression on his face told me that he didn't miss the significance of such a thing.

"I will never call you K," he murmured, "because I know that you are not him, no matter what you may believe. But if this is your one condition…then I feel that it is a small price to pay. Light Yagami…from now on, as far as the public is concerned, you will be known as K, L's partner."

I closed my eyes, pulling my lover down to rest against me. "Thank you," I whispered genuinely. L hummed in response, and though I could tell he was still slightly tense, he melted into my embrace. "So…" I murmured, brushing my lips to his neck. "Now that that's taken care of, are you feeling up to something a bit more fun? You said it yourself—you have a long way to go before you catch up to Beyond."

He drew away slightly, staring into my eyes, and smirked. I felt the tension drain out of him as he responded, "I suppose I do. I think we can fit in a round or two before we have to go speak to the task force about the things that have been decided here, don't you?"

L's lips went to my bruised neck, and I breathed out, "And I'm already undressed for you…how convenient."

The detective purred in agreement, dragging his lips down my throat, and I sighed contentedly, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling serenely. As L's hands brushed across my chest, I couldn't contain my joy at the thought that I was really going to leave with him, marry him, spend my life with him.

I felt happy. Really, truly happy.

In fact, I had never been happier.

†††

"You're _what?_ " Soichiro spluttered.

I blushed heavily. I hadn't expected this conversation to go well, but this…

"Your son is leaving with me," L said firmly, one arm flung around my shoulders. "We're boarding a plane tomorrow and leaving to travel around the world for a while, solving cases as we see fit."

Soichiro's jaw dropped.

"As soon as we decide on a date, I will take Light to America, where we have decided to get married."

"You're just leaving? Just like that?" Soichiro demanded. "You can't just leave Japan! Light, I understand that you love this man, and I don't disapprove of your being together, but—you're _leaving_?"

"Yes," I said hesitantly. "I'm sorry, but this is what I want. I want to leave Japan and travel the world with L. I want to solve cases with him, and eventually marry him. He's even let me take a detective code, like him." _Of course,_ I thought, _there's no way I'm telling him that my code is K._ I looked up at my father hopefully. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow, so I'll be going back to the house to pack and say goodbye to Sayu and mother." I waited for my father to begin screaming, to tell me that I wasn't allowed to leave. But after a long moment, when I all I heard was a sigh, I looked up.

My father pinched the bridge of his noise between two fingers. "Light…" he sighed. "Is there nothing I can do to keep you here?"

"Absolutely nothing," L declared firmly.

I nodded. "I'm sorry, but no. And… I'll be back, at some point. And you'll definitely be invited to the wedding, if you want to come."

Another long, painful pause. Then Soichiro sighed again, deeply. He moved forward and clasped a hand to my shoulder. "I expect to be invited to the wedding. Your mother and Sayu too. And _you_ will be the one telling them where you are going."

My mood brightened. A small smile graced my features, and I nodded. "Of course!"

L added, "I am not stealing your son away forever, Mr. Yagami. We will visit from time to time."

My father's eyes narrowed as he stared at the man who was stealing me away. "I expect you to take good care of him, L. I don't want you to treat him the way you did before this whole mess began. If you're going to drag my son across the world, then you're going to treat him _right._ Do you understand me?"

L nodded. "Yes, I do," he responded softly. "You have nothing to fear, Chief Yagami—no matter what happens, I won't let anything happen to your son."

Soichiro opened his mouth, no doubt to say something more about how I was going to be treated, but before he could, Mello suddenly butted in, pushing Soichiro aside and throwing an arm around my shoulders, effectively dislodging L. "Shacking up with the world's greatest detective's eh?" he cackled. "I suppose if you're going to be topped by anyone, it might as well be L, right?"

I blanched. "Ah…"

L cleared his throat meaningfully, pushing Mello off. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't accost my fiancé, Mello."

The successor threw his arms up exasperatedly. "So touchy!"

Matt darted forward and pulled Mello back. "You'd better invite us to the wedding," he warned L. "After all this, it's the least you can do."

"On don't worry…" Mello laughed, "we'll definitely be there, regardless of whether or not we get an invitation!" The smile that spread across his face was nothing short of demonic. I had a bad feeling that the successors weren't going to be the best wedding guests.

"You will invite the task force as well, of course?" Near questioned politely.

"If they want to go, they're welcome," L said. "But it won't be for a few months at least, so none of you need to worry."

I flinched, thinking of Sayu and my mother's reactions.

This was going to be interesting…

†††

One day later, I stared out the window of the L's private jet as it soared thousands of feet above the ground. The area below the plane was completely blue, and I knew that we were passing over the ocean on our way to the case L had picked out in Australia. I reclined in my seat, recalling the past day.

My mother had been stunned when I walked in the door with L, who I immediately introduced as my fiancé. There had been a small conversation in the doorway, which mostly involved my mother sputtering and gasping in surprise.

And then came Sayu.

She took one look at me and squealed. She ran right up to L and began interrogating him, wanting to know everything about him, his profession, how we met, when we were getting married. And surprisingly, L had indulged her, telling her everything she wanted to know. Now both mom and Sayu knew that I was engaged to the world's greatest detective. After all, L explained, now that Kira was dead, he no longer saw any threat in revealing (at least to his fiancé's family) that he was L.

It had taken a little convincing, and a lot of time. But eventually my mother had agreed to let me go, and Sayu promised not to hold a grudge as long as she was invited to the wedding. So that was that, and all I had to do was pack my things to leave. L aided me in stuffing my things into a few bags, and after receiving a few hugs from my parents and Sayu, we were off.

I turned my head away from the window to seek out L. The world's greatest detective was seated in the window seat across the isle on the other side of the plane. He was staring out the window, posture relaxed, head leaning on one hand. He'd forfeited his odd sitting position in favor of seating himself normally. I smiled, observing how the sunlight leaking through the window dappled his pale skin. He was beautiful. Odd, completely insane, and mostly remorseless, but still beautiful. I looked away, and my eyes found the notebook sitting on my lap. It wasn't the Death Note, no… that infernal thing was gone for good. This notebook was completely white with lined paper within. Clipped to the cover of said notebook there was a simple ballpoint pen.

Smiling, I flipped the notebook open to the first page. My name was etched on the inside cover from when I'd first gotten this notebook, many years ago. I'd meant to use it for taking notes in school, but I'd never needed it. It had been sitting on my shelf for years until this day, when I decided that I would put it to better use.

I looked up at L through my lashes to see if he was watching. Seeing that he was still daydreaming, I said, "You know, I'd like to write it all down someday."

That got his attention. The detective's head whipped around to stare at me, his eyes darting momentarily to observe the pen and notebook in my lap. "Write it all down? Like a book?"

"Hmm… I don't know. Maybe I'd just handwrite it, make it a journal."

L looked alarmed. "You can't do that!" he exclaimed. "What if someone found it and read through it to the end? They'd know my name and everything that happened here!"

"Come on, L," I sighed. "You know full well that no one would believe the story, even if they did actually read it to the end."

"And what if it fell into the hands of someone who actually checked the facts? If they looked up the death count and found it accurate to what you wrote down, or figured out that the criminals you talked about actually died in the way you specified, or even that Misa Amane disappeared at the same time you said she did? They might figure out that it's real!"

"Anyone could have figured all that out with a little research anyways," I responded. "No one would believe it. And just to be safe, I could change up some of the numbers. No one would know."

"Still, I can't agree to this!"

I smirked, well aware of how irritated I was making the detective. I put the pen to my lips, closing my teeth lightly on the end of the utensil. "Let's see… how should I start it?" I pressed the pen to paper and feigned writing. " _I watched the chain of the handcuffs dangle from my wrist, clanking irritably against the metal desk I shared with L, who was undeniably the most irritating little imp of a creature that I had ever met_ …"

L stared at me with wide eyes, flickering with a hint of barely concealed amusement. "Did you just say you're describing me as an imp?"

I smirked teasingly, going on, "L Lawliet was a tall man with many strange habits, not the least of which being what he was doing at the moment—sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest and almost certainly damaging his already curved spine. His endless hours of sleeplessness had led him to develop bags under his eyes that made him look as if he wore buckets of liquid eyeliner _beneath_ his eyes. He loved sugar so much that he refused to eat anything else, and I sometimes caught him spooning the stuff straight out of the bucket. I was certain that he was going to develop diabetes at an early age, or at least get fat, but for as long as I knew him, he was so skinny that his bones were visible beneath his skin. Skin, I might add, that was almost translucent in its paleness. " I paused and looked up at L with a toothy grin. "He was the very definition of the world freak."

"You are _not_ describing me like that!" L yelped, leaping to his feet and flying across the isle. He made a mad grab for the notebook, but I held it aloft, laughing as the detective's body sprawled across my lap in a tangle of long limbs. "Give it here!"

"And there I sat beside him…" I laughed wildly as L moved his fingers sharply across my sides, sending a tickling sensation lacing up and down my flesh. "The pure picture of beauty with amber hair and caramel eyes, so perfect that no one could ever hope to be as perfect as me!" One of L's hands swiped at the notebook, and this time he caught the corner of it.

"Now I've got it!" L announced triumphantly, yanking on the book. "Maybe _I'll_ write the story instead of you! How would you like that?" The notebook slipped from my fingers as his foot accidentally nudged the lever that made my chair extend backwards. He straddled my waist and looked down at me playfully. "Perhaps I will describe you as a princely figure who had _so many_ girls throwing themselves at him that they scared him into perusing men instead!"

"Don't you dare say that about me!" I gasped, feigning anger, but it didn't last as L's fingers returned to my sides.

"Light Yagami, your typical arrogant, self-obsessed teenager sat beside me in the investigation room, reducing his reasoning abilities by forty percent by sitting in that boringly normal way of his, and eating _absolutely no_ sugar despite the obvious advantages to be found!"

L's fingers left my sides in favor of griping the sides of my face, and his lips lowered so they brushed mine with every word.

"He was obsessed with his looks, always looking at his reflection in the dark computer monitor, and thought that he was better than absolutely everyone that had ever existed. Of course, he didn't know that the detective L was actually _way_ better than him, and was only hiding his brilliance to make Light feel better! He was the definition of the word vain!" L's forehead met mine, and I could feel the smile curve against my lips. "How's that for a description, Light? Do you think I did you justice?" He dropped the notebook to the ground beside my chair, but I barely noticed. "Perhaps _I_ should write, and _you_ should be my editor!"

I leaned up minutely. "Good luck writing without knowing my point of view, genius," I purred.

"Good luck writing without _my_ point of view!" came the response.

For a moment we held our positions without moving, lips barely brushing, chests pressed together, legs intertwined. Then I laughed and said, "Perhaps we should work together on this story?"

"If you are so insistent upon writing it all down, then I suppose I have no choice," L murmured.

I felt one of his hands brush through my hair lovingly, and then he pulled me into a _real_ kiss, one that seared with love and affection. I felt his tongue push past my lips, and I hummed contentedly.

I was happy. For the first time in my entire life, I felt truly, completely happy, lying back with the man I loved stooped over me. With every moment that passed our kiss became more and more heated, and with every moment that passed I remembered.

I remembered that very first day, the day nearly six months ago, when I had sat with L in the investigation room and complained about being so stiff after months in confinement. I remembered falling ill, and how L had stayed by my side constantly, even when he thought I was going to die. I remembered Beyond's harsh treatment, and being rescued by my lover. I remembered Kira taking over, the weeks of darkness, and then my grand triumph over him. I remembered writing Beyond's name down in the Death Note with the intent of giving my life for L. And I remembered waking up with L beside me, and the joy of seeing those dark eyes gleaming with happiness. A happiness that I now shared.

L pulled away from me, his finger playing with the buttons of my shirt. "I love you Light Yagami," he whispered softly.

I smiled and returned, "And I love you, L Lawliet."

As L's lips crashed back to mine, I was happy. Because no matter what happened, no matter where we went or who we became, we would be together. We would travel the world, solving case after case, and eventually, when we decided it was time, we would travel to America to be married. We would spend our lives together, and eventually, when it all drew to a close, we would die together.

 _But no_ , I thought, as I looked out the window to the sea below, _for now, I won't think about death—I'll just lay here in the arms of the man I love, and wait for the future to find me._

And so that was what I did. I lay there, curled around L, gazing out across the bright blue water, and waited.

†††

 _Seven years, seven anniversaries later, here we are. Nothing has changed, and everything has changed. It's funny…everyone always says that time changes everything, and that nothing lasts forever…and while it may be true that nothing lasts forever, so far I've seen no evidence that time changes everything. I still love L, and he still loves me. And if I ever doubt that, all I have to do is look down at that simple golden band on my finger, from that beautiful day six years ago. We always said we'd end up in America to be wed, and we did just that—L found us a beautiful little town in California, and we flew in my family from Japan, and the successors from England. Well, actually, only Matt and Mello were flown in from England. Near chose to stay in Japan, all that time ago, so he could stay with my sister. It's funny, really—I had no idea that they were so close until he was telling me that he was staying behind to be with her. But I'm glad. I left my family, seven years ago, and Near stayed with them in my place, in a way. He's kept them safe, and for that I am grateful. He still feels guilty for what happened in that forest so, so long ago, but I don't care anymore. Those events are in the past—the distant past—and I've recovered. L swears that I'm not better yet, that I'm not what I was before Beyond got his hands on me. And quite honestly, I'm sure that he's right. I'll never recover from some of the things that happened to me. There are still nights when I wake up, screaming, and L has to hold me close for hours before I can begin to calm down. And there will always be nights like that. It's something that I can't change, something that will always be there, lurking in the back of my mind. But L, the little devil, is dead convinced that he can stop the nightmares entirely. He's wrong, of course, but I don't have the heart to tell him. I let him try, and I take comfort in the fact that no matter what I am, no matter how long it's been and what my mind has warped into, he will always love me._

 _And then there's the little matter of my work._

 _I became K, just like I wanted to. And just as L predicted, the world wasn't exactly eager to accept someone calling themselves K into the inner circles of government. For a long while, they were even suspicious of_ L _because of it_ , _but that soon changed. The first case I took on as K, I took down a major crime syndicate, and that was enough to start me on the road to redemption. Of course, no one knows for certain that I used to be Kira other than L and his closest associates—i.e. the successors and the task force—but again, just as L predicted, rumors flew. There were whispers that L had caught Kira and had decided to join him, or that Kira had given up on justice and joined L. The most ridiculed theories arose when a certain few citizens began to speculate that maybe, just maybe, Kira and L had fallen in love and joined forces—but those theories were deemed absurd, and shot down as soon as they saw the light of day. In the end, all anyone knew was that Kira was gone, and a mysterious man known as K had joined L at the same time. And miraculously, crime rates didn't rise an inch. In a deadly combination of fear of Kira and fear of L, criminals were taken down faster than ever, and many people didn't even commit said crimes in the first place. And now, seven years after the initial surge of suspicion from the general public, things haven't changed. Kira's killings have stopped, but the fact that there's someone calling themselves K working with L has been more than enough to instill a deep, terrible fear into the minds of even the most hardened of criminals._

 _In terms of the work itself…well, I suppose one might call it incredibly dangerous. For the most part, L and I have tried not to get involved directly in most of our cases, and have entered the field very few times. But over the past several years, I've gained more than one fresh scar, and L has had his fair share of broken bones and swollen eyes. And every time it happens, every time one of us ends up spilling a bit of our own blood, we end up doing the same thing—curling up together, arms and legs intertwined, and refusing to let go until we're certain that we're both okay, that we're not going to die. After almost dying so many times all those years ago, it's become our way of affirming that we're still there for each other, that we're not leaving, that when we die, it'll be together._

 _That's the other thing…the fact that when I die, my soul will go to Mu. And L…I'm not sure what will happen to him. I have a suspicion…a deep, dark suspicion, that L did something foolish. I think that somehow, someway, seven years ago, he assured that he would go to Mu with me. Whether he used the Death Note or asked the Shinigami King for a favor I know not, but either way…something about the way he talks about life after death makes me think that he knows more than he's letting on. There's this ridiculous little grin he gets on his face whenever I happen to mention Mu. I don't think he even knows it's there, but…I see it. And while I may not be certain about its meaning, I can guess. I can guess that he's found a way to share my fate. And the worst part is, I'm okay with it. I'm almost happy that my lover has doomed himself, for it means that when we take that last step together, we'll_ stay _together._

 _And that just brings me to my one, last concern—the Shinigami King. Have I created the perfect world he strained for? Has L created it? I wait, every day, for him to return and tell us we've failed, to spark some radical adventure just as he did the first time. But as time goes on, and years pass, that becomes less and less likely. We may not have created a perfect world just yet, but we're on our way. A few more years, perhaps, and it will become a reality._

 _I think I see him, sometimes. A shadow flitting past a window, a feather floating down from the ceiling, a faint outline against the sky. I can never be sure, but I feel like…like he's_ watching _us. Like he's still waiting for us to take that last step in the creation of a perfect world. And then, once we finish creating that world, he'll finally leave us in peace. But until then, we work. We work, and we wonder about the past, and about the future._

 _To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if I'll ever know everything that went down all those years ago. I think that there will always be secrets, that there will always be details and stories left untold. But like I thought seven years ago, as I stared up at L, believing that I was about to pass on to Mu…_

 _Maybe there are some secrets that should just be left unknown._

"Light! Hey, Light, we're going to be late!"

I jerked my head up, nearly smearing the ink on the final word as I yanked the pen away from the paper. I looked towards the door of the study, where the voice had emanated from.

Then it sounded again. "Come on, you've been in there for an hour! We're supposed to leave _now!"_

 _Oh my god, I forgot!_ I scrambled to my feet, pushing back the desk chair and slamming the white notebook I'd been writing in shut. I swiftly placed the pen back in its holder and reached for my coat, which I'd thrown over the back of the chair. I heard the door open a moment later, and footsteps neared the desk. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and the next heartbeat that voice was insisting, "Light!"

I whirled around immediately, and was immediately met with dark, obsidian eyes. "L!" I burst out. "I completely forgot, I got caught up in writing, and—"

His eyes widened, darting to the table behind me. He reached for the white notebook, flipping through the pages until he reached the final few words. "You finished your part?" he asked, scanning the page, but not really reading it. He'd read it later, though, for sure. "You're finally done?"

"Yeah," I said softly. "Six years, and it's finally done." And that wasn't an exaggeration—it had taken me long, too long, to write down everything that had happened. It wasn't perfect—I'd left out certain parts entirely, namely my first encounter with Beyond, and most of the details involving L's identity.

"That's a relief," L murmured, putting the notebook down and whirling me around, pulling me into an embrace. "Now it can't hurt you anymore."

"No," I agreed in a low tone, leaning into my lover. "It can't."

L let out a soft, contented sigh before drawing back, keeping his arms looped firmly around my waist. "We _are_ going to be late, though."

"Oh, right…" I chuckled. "I'm sorry, but I was just so close to finishing, and…"

He nodded understandingly. "It's okay, I don't blame you. But if we don't leave now, we're going to miss our flight."

"You know as well as I do that we can just take our private jet," I chuckled.

"Yes, but we've already agreed to arrive on a regular flight, dressed like regular people, acting like _regular_ members of society. You know how your father gets when we go gallivanting away in the private jet—he's always suspicious that we only fly in the thing so we can engage in our _scandalous_ activities."

"He only thinks that because it _is_ the only reason we fly in the thing," I shot back playfully, burying my face in his shoulder.

"Not true," L protested with a small smile. "Sometimes we take it when we're running late for a flight, and need to be in Japan in approximately fourteen hours or your father will _kill_ us."

I laughed, "I think we should be more worried about _Near_ killing us. It's not every day one of your successors gets _married,_ L, and if we're not there on time, he's going to _destroy_ us."

"Yes, yes," L muttered. "And I suppose the bride won't be too happy either…"

"Oh no," I groaned, "I forgot! I promised Sayu that I'd bring her something from England as a wedding present, and I haven't gotten her anything!"

"Our wedding present to her and Near is the house we got them," L reminded me. "But I knew you'd forget about getting her a souvenir of sorts, so I took the liberty of picking something out."

"Oh, thank god!" I gasped, relieved. I hadn't seen Sayu in _ages—_ she was twenty-one now, about to be married, and here I was, forgetting to bring her something as a present!

"It's waiting with the rest of our luggage," L went on, "which we need to take to the airport _now_ if we don't want to have a raving Sayu and a furious Near on our hands."

"Right, right," I responded breathlessly. I finished tugging on my coat, pulling away from L long enough to reach over and grab my wallet and stuff it into my back pocket. "Matt and Mello are meeting us there, right?"

"Yes, their flight departed exactly seventeen minutes ago."

I chuckled lightly, swiftly arranging the objects on my desk, laying the notebook out perfectly straight, cleaning eraser crumbs from some of the earlier mistakes I'd erased from the sections I'd written in pencil. "You know," I remarked, darting into the adjoined bathroom and running a comb through my hair, "I wonder when we'll be getting _their_ wedding invitation."

L hummed noncommittally. "I doubt those two will ever get married."

"Really?" I finished combing out my hair and moved to straighten my tie, which I'd pulled loose while I wrote. "I suppose you're right, actually…but you never know." I exited the bathroom, closing the door behind me, and announced, "Okay, I'm ready to go."

"Finally!" L exclaimed, a light smile on his face as he grabbed me by the hand, tugging me for the door. He flung said door open, and was just about to pull me over the threshold, when I stopped him with a tug of my hand in his.

"Wait," I requested, turning him around. My feet were still just inside the door, arms reached out through the doorway to grasp onto my lover.

L frowned. "Light? What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, just…" I pulled him close, and pressed my lips to his for a brief moment. When I drew back he was blushing, something that had become increasingly common over the six years we'd been married.

"What was that for?" he asked, fingers curling into my coat.

I kissed him again, once, briefly, and smirked. "Oh, no reason…I just love you, Lawliet."

He tilted his head to one side, clearly puzzled, but responded just the same. "I love you as well, Light. Is there a reason for your sudden declaration of affection?"

"Oh…" I trailed off. "Nothing. It's just…it felt important to say for some reason."

He shook his head, amused, a contented glitter in his dark eyes. "You and your random inclinations…" He gave my hand a light tug, insisting, "Now, come on—we've got to go!"

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there!" I assured him with another laugh.

"You're too slow! I'll meet you downstairs." Shooting one last look of adoration in my direction, L turned and headed down the stairs of the home we were currently staying in in England.

I immediately moved after him, grinning as I moved. But then, just as I was about to leave the room, I paused—and there, half in, half out of the bedroom I'd shared with L for several weeks, I looked back.

The white notebook was sitting on the table, filled with six year's worth of scribbling. Anyone who read it would think that I was insane— _worse_ than insane. But it didn't matter, because the only one who would ever read it was L, and he'd _lived_ it with me. That notebook sat there, white cover glittering harmlessly, a polar opposite of the black notebook that had once sat on my desk, staring up at me with white, accusatory lettering. It sat there and it stared back at me, whispering about all of the terrifying, _horrifying_ events of seven years ago. It was strange, I thought, to be sitting here, seven years after the horror story, reducing such scarring events to words on a page. It made the whole thing seem very distant, very…fictional. I liked it, really—being able to pretend that everything had been fake. I wanted to look at those little words, slightly smeared from countless readings, and believe that it had all been a dream. But I owed it to L, owed it to _myself,_ to remember what had happened. And so rather than shying away, rather than fleeing the notebook's story, I offered it a small smile. I smiled at it because I knew that now, so many years later, though I would never forget, though I would always, _always_ have those shatteringly painful nightmares and those deep, ragged scars, I was going to be okay. L was right—the notebook couldn't hurt me any longer.

Now, for the first time in seven years, I felt wholly, truly, safe.

And so with that, I cast one last glance at the tiny room, flicked off the lights, closed the door, turned around, and walked away.

 _Fin._

 **At the end of the road, I have to thank all of my reviewers _so much_ for sticking with me throughout twenty-eight chapters of my nonsensical writing. All of you are fabulous, and you've made me so happy with all your support! And I want to let you know** **my next story, suggested by the lovely May of Rose, is already underway! I'm not going to tell you about it quite yet, but the name I'm running with is Painted Faces, Mechanical Hearts, and I'm just about one chapter into it so far. I'm aiming for having it up in about three to four months, so be sure to keep an eye out for it!**

 **In conclusion, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the final chapter of Burn, and just the story in general. And if you did, be sure to leave one final review on your way out to tell me what you thought, overall, of the story I worked so hard on!**


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